Seven Letter Word for Liar
by ice-woman
Summary: Series of little vignettes...mostly House/Cameron, but it follows the general storyline of the show. NOW FINISHED!
1. No Pressure Over Cappuccino

This takes place directly after _No More Mr. Nice Guy._

This is meant to be a _one-shot_, because honestly, right now with the way House is going, it's hard to write more than just little House/Cam moments, unless you go completely OC/AU. I was re-watching this episode and became rather upset that so few people posted fanfics in response to Chase's question to Cameron about sleeping with House. It seemed like one of the most significant hints towards a House/Cam relationship since the original ducklings left at the end of Season Three. I warn you, this isn't explicably Hameron, rather it's implied, because we all know what happens after this episode. This is just my take on what Cameron was feeling, and my desperate wish that House and Cameron would interact much more than the writers allow. (I quite obviously do not own Cameron or House, but I can wish, can't I?)

xXx

Cameron stirred her coffee vigorously, harnessing all of her bottled up energy into spinning around the red stirrer, rather than thinking about the problem that had been nagging at her all day. She bit her lip slightly as a stray strand of blonde hair fell into her face. She sighed, slamming the spoon down. This was ridiculous.

Allison Cameron had been through much more than most people her age. She pulled herself through med school, watched her husband die, guilted herself for years over the love she felt for her husband's best friend Joe, stood firm for three years under House's rule, despite his belittling and teasing, and left House's dictatorship on her own terms. Now she ran the entire ER and didn't have to jump every time House tapped his cane theatrically onto the floor. She could tell him no as much as she wanted and get some sleep at night. She could ignore him and challenge him and not feel bad about insulting her boss. He sought her out, not vice versa. He came looking for her when he was bored, or stumped, or merely hiding from Cuddy. Most of the time, he didn't even treat her as an inferior. She had in many respects, become his equal.

Chase too, had changed drastically since House fired him. He now thought nothing of mocking House and arguing with him, and well, he'd become much more brazen than she ever realized he could be. She had to admit, the transformation was definitely for the better. She doubted she'd still be with him if he hadn't toughened up.

So then why were five little words harassing her senselessly, poking at her chest, and causing the familiar feelings of anxiety she'd become all too accustomed to since college? Now that she was free of House's rule and able to respect Chase enough to date him, why was she now suddenly struck by her boyfriend's stupid question?

"You know, if you wanted to punish it, you could just give it to your little wombat friend," a familiar voice sneered. "I'm sure just a moment in his repulsive, little mouth would be punishment enough for that liquid which you obviously loathe _so passionately_."

Cameron frowned, unpinching her fingers and allowing the spoon to clank loudly against the rim of the coffee cup. She spun around to face House. "I'm just tired," she insisted, shooting him a look. She'd hoped he'd assume she was pms-ing and leave her alone. House hated dealing with any sort of emotional mess.

Naturally, the one time she wanted him to leave, he didn't.

"So, Thirteen tells me you compared me to Mozart," he teased.

Cameron's eyes narrowed. "Thirteen has a big mouth." She paused. "It was merely a metaphor. The only positive thing I said about you was that you were a good doctor and better than Hitler. That leaves a lot of room for personal interpretation."

House smiled, clearly amused. Inwardly, Cameron cringed. He was just beginning to enjoy this conversation. She knew that look cold. She was his little test subject for the morning, and she had inadvertently been roped into playing his little game.

"_Good _doctor?" House asked, feigning insult.

Cameron rolled her eyes, forcing herself not to give away a smile. He would enjoy that entirely too much. She shrugged. "Always room for improvement," she offered.

House shook his head at her. "Always with the proverbs," he griped. "And you're right. Thirteen has a _very_ big mouth."

Cameron remained composed, waiting for the big news House so obviously wanted to deliver to her. Of course, she could also see him construing his last statement as some sexual joke, but his tone seemed a bit too cocky for such a juvenile maneuver. Curiosity tugged at her, eager to hear where this comment would take them. She hated how engrossing his words were to her, but she couldn't deny their appeal. She found everything about him fascinating, even if she didn't like it or approve of her transfixion. The point was, when he spoke, inwardly, she was still as mesmerized as she had been when he first hired her. The difference now was that she'd calloused substantially since her first year in this hospital. She'd learn to disassociate herself with her patients and even more so with her fellow colleagues. Cameron no longer conveyed every thought that raced through her head, no longer fixed House's coffee or made sure he was alright. If he needed her, he'd find her, and he certainly knew how to do that. She merely kept the fact that she actually cared about him to herself, hiding it from Chase, and most importantly, House. No more allowing him to use her personal feelings to his advantage. She'd grown out of his childish antics.

"See now, this is where you would normally butt in with a very enthusiastic 'What else did Thirteen say?' in that sweet, little, irritating voice of yours."

Cameron shrugged, using her index finger to push her glasses farther up on her nose. "I figure if you want to tell me, you'll tell me."

It took every muscle in her body to restrain the smile threatening to creep across her face. This was killing him. She could tell. He had that look in his eye, like she was a mystery he was dying to unravel. He loved puzzles, and that was precisely what she had become to him, a rather precarious enigma. Watching him hide his frustrations at her dismissive demeanor thrilled her. She liked to watch him squirm, because the opportunities were so few and far between. She also secretly prided herself of knowing that she was one of the only people close enough to House to make him uncomfortable. She had power over him, and while she had no idea how much power or what this power meant to him, it was enough to know that it was there and she held it. Their relationship was not on his terms anymore.

He squinted his eyes as if trying to pry into her head. He used his cane to slide the chair next to her across the floor to where he stood, and he straddled the seat slowly, his chest resting on the chair's back.

"Okay," he began at last, succumbing to her game. "So you don't care at all what Thirteen said to me?"

Cameron smiled and shook her head. "Nope," she lied. "Of course, Thirteen wouldn't exactly confide in you with anything significant, because well, I don't think she likes you that much, which is a pretty consistent take on your personality, so my guess is, whatever this news is that has you in such a great mood, you overheard it."

House smirked. "Doesn't matter _how_ I heard," he toyed, unable to admit that she was correct in her assumption. "Point is, _I know something you don't know_," he teased in his mocking singsong voice. His eyes lit up just like a little kid's.

Cameron laughed, angry with herself for not being able to stand firm in her battle against him. "Fine," she agreed rolling her eyes. "You're obviously _dying_ to tell me whatever it is that you heard, so how about you make it fast and let me get back to…"

"Killing your coffee?" he nodded. "Of course. I do harbor a soft spot in my heart for murderers, so I'll be sure to let you get right back to that."

She met his amused glare, her eyes laughing. She thought about throwing her spoon at him, but knew that he'd enjoy knowing he got to her. She was becoming overwhelmed in her attempts to stifle his gaming tactics.

"Where's Chase?" House asked suddenly, peering around the room. "He's not on call, and usually when he's done work I find him suctioned to your side." He paused. "Or is it your ass he prefers to be plastered to? I don't know how you two like it."

Cameron crossed her arms. "Chase is at home. He left hours ago and I…"

"Decided to stay long after your shift because…"

"Because I run the ER!" Cameron insisted. "I had a few nurses call out and…"

"And god help us if we have a few less high-pitched, whiny, condescending doctor wannabees strutting around this hospital like it's a fashion show…"

Cameron pursed her lips. "I decided to stay until things calmed down. And now they're calm."

"Just not for your Maxwell House buddy over there."

"I was _stirring_ my coffee."

"You were trying to defy physics by breaking a liquid with a spoon."

Cameron held her hands up in defeat. "_Whatever_," she remarked, no longer able to think of witty comebacks. Let him win, she thought. The game was all he had.

House grinned victoriously. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, turning the conversation back to Chase.

Cameron tensed. "Chase and I are fine. We don't spend every waking minute together, contrary to your suction cup theory."

"My theories are _rarely_ ever wrong," he insisted. "And if you recall, my theory was that the wombat clung to you, not the other way around."

Cameron nodded. "Then you're admitting that it's perfectly normal for me to be sitting in the break room, away from Chase, attempting to enjoy a cup of coffee?"

House shook his head. "No, I'm implying that it's very out of character for you to be sitting in the break room, away from Chase, not touching your cup of coffee, when you're no longer needed here for the day." He gestured to the clock. "It's four a.m."

"I can tell time."

"I always knew you had something the other doctors didn't," he replied mockingly. "I _didn't _however peg you to be at the center of the hospital's latest juicy rumor."

"Rumor?" Cameron questioned, now completely drawn in.

House slapped his hands together, pleased that he had finally obtained her full attention. "Apparently, we're the talk of the town," he grinned maliciously, raising his eyebrows at her.

Cameron's lips twisted into a scowl. "_Oh_," she muttered. "_That_."

"_That_?" House questioned. "Oh, come on, we both know you're secretly thrilled that the entire hospital thinks we're sleeping together."

"_Slept_," Cameron corrected. "Past tense. Chase asked if we _slept_ together."

House grinned.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "He was worried about syphilis," she insisted. "As in, he thought that perhaps we may have slept together, and he needed to know if he had anything to worry about…with stds."

House nodded. "_Right_," he laughed. "And let me guess, when you brilliant doctors discovered that I did _not_ in fact have syphilis, Chase just let this whole discussion drop, because the possibility of an std was all he was really worried about."

Cameron shot him daggers. "_I'm not in love with you_," she replied firmly.

"I never said you were," House mused. "So touchy, though. But, _really_, all I'm curious to know is what you ended up telling our little _mate_."

Cameron mustered some dignity. "I didn't tell him anything," she insisted. "I told him it was none of his business…not to mention how unprofessional it was to bring it up in front of the interns."

House shrugged. "Perhaps since Thirteen goes both ways, he was just throwing out your openness to having sex with coworkers to see if she'd go for it."

Cameron sighed. "Go away, House."

He smirked. "You can't avoid his question forever," he replied, pleased as punch with his ability to trigger such a defensive response from her.

"I think I can handle my relationship with Chase much better without advice from someone who hasn't been in a relationship in years," Cameron challenged, without much success. Any normal person might have been cut by her remark, but House? She knew calling him on his lack of relationship skills wouldn't even graze him.

"Okay, don't get your panties in a twist," House joked. "Though the rumor mill would _love _to know I caused that."

"Shut up," she spat, standing up and dumping her untouched coffee in the sink. She slammed the mug down on the counter, indicating that she wasn't going to be remaining for the rest of his attack on her. She walked over to the door, causing him to spin his chair around. He looked up at her expectantly.

"Okay, okay," House remarked. "I just was curious as to whether you were going to lie to the guy or not."

"I don't…"

"You _do_ lie Cameron," House replied quickly. "People just don't expect you to. You probably do it better than most. And, as you told our dear friend Wilson, _everybody lies_."

Cameron clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Well, fine. Everybody lies. It's true."

"Couldn't agree more!" House exclaimed. "So, what'll it be?"

Cameron sighed. "This is none of your business."

House pretended to look offended. "_Cameron_, it _involves_ me!" he grinned. "Come on, I need to know the story we're sticking to," he teased.

Cameron crossed her arms. "If he asks, I'm going to tell him that we didn't sleep together. _If_ he asks, which he probably won't, because he's able to recognize that whatever happened or _didn't happen_ in the past is…"

"Oh, he's _going_ to ask," House assured her. "You _know_ he's going to ask."

Cameron nodded. "Of course he'll ask again," she admitted.

House studied her. "And you're going to deny it?"

Cameron nodded slowly.

House nodded, eyes retreating downward momentarily, an expression crossing his face that Cameron couldn't quite place. He quickly recovered however, eyes darting back to hers. He shrugged. "Everybody lies," he repeated.

Cameron felt like she'd been shot. His eyes taunted hers, forcing her to realize that nothing she said could erase the past or change how she felt about it. "Yeah," she agreed quietly, stumbling out into the hallway, the urge to run away from him suddenly very dire. She couldn't erase his eyes from her memory. The cold, unforgiving truth glaring back at her, demanding that she recognize something she'd tried desperately to repress.

Perspiration lined her brow as she clamored down the hallway. She felt like she was being followed the entire way to the elevator, her heart beating fiercely. Only when the steel doors slammed shut was she was able to breathe again. She pressed her back against the wall, exhaling and inhaling deeply to slow her pulse. She stared at her reflection in the metal in front of her. She no longer reeked of innocence and naivety. She'd learned how to cope with her emotional nature. She'd learned how to retreat and how to hide within herself. She'd learned how to keep herself eerily calm under the most pressing of circumstances.

She felt nauseous as the green eyes glaring back at her flickered. Who the hell had she become?

The answer haunted her.

xXx

Reviews are welcome, and I apologize for any inaccuracies. This is my first House fic and I'm trying to keep the characters true to their personalities. Please review…I can't say I'll continue this story (because really, where could it go from here?), but I do however promise to write more.


	2. Hard Habit to Break

Takes place after House's Head, Wilson's Heart, while House is lying in the hospital bed...I've decided to do compose a series of one shots based on the current episodes. Basically, everything that happens with Cameron and House will be true to their characters and the storylines of seasons four and five. I'm just filling in the gaps.

I'm posting two parts this week so that you'll hopefully forgive me for taking almost a month to update. I've been wracking my brain with the best way to continue this once I finally decided to go on. (Thanks to everyone for their wonderful reviews which persuaded me to come to this conclusion.)

And yes, the title is a play on Cameron's name...both Allison and Cameron are comprised of seven letters, so I thought it was fitting. And just to warn you, there will be a couple of chapters that may seem like I'm hinting at a Cameron/Wilson pairing, but never fear, I'm a Hameron girl through and through. There will also be a lot of House/Cuddy, because, well, that's the direction the writers are taking us in. It's beyond my control, but I do not hate Cuddy...can you blame her for liking House? Still, it will remain a Hameron story overall.

xXx

She waited.

It was three a.m. before she saw Cuddy tiptoe out of House's room. She'd left Chase's apartment around midnight. She told Chase she wanted to be alone. That was very true. She did want to be alone. In fact, she knew that visiting House would make her feel very much alone.

Still, she felt she had to at least go in.

So, she did.

She sat in the chair Cuddy had clung to most of the night, eyes focused straight ahead. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, not just yet.

"Too skinny to be Lisa."

She flinched, strangely unnerved by the eeriness of hearing Cuddy's first name. The fact that House was using it, that he was _familiar_ with it, grated her. It was as if she had walked in on a private conversation that she had no right to overhear. Perhaps she had no right to even be there.

"It's Cameron," she replied.

"You thought I didn't recognize you?"

She smiled, her fingertips brushing his hand. She'd contemplated squeezing it, but House wouldn't want that. It would make her feel better, but would make him worse. She couldn't have that.

"Cuddy just left," Cameron reported. "Figured she got paged, so I thought now was as good a time as any to slip in."

House nodded. "Cuddy would have let you in."

Cameron bit her lip. "I know."

"You didn't want her to know you were visiting me?" He sounded so strange. He wasn't amused at all. She hated that she was pitying him when she should detest him. She hated that she thought of him before Wilson.

"No, I didn't want to…embarrass her," Cameron admitted. It was partly true. Cuddy wouldn't like Cameron viewing her pain.

House frowned. "She was only in here, because no one else wanted to be."

"That's not true," Cameron lied.

"Okay, fine, maybe you wanted to be…but…."

She allowed his sentence to trail off. He needed to rest, not talk. This had probably been a bad idea.

"He doesn't hate you," she insisted. How could she know? She hadn't spoken to him. She hadn't seen him since…. She tensed. James Wilson was a lot of things, most of them rather noble. He didn't hate House. She could honestly claim she believed that. He hated himself. He hated the situation. He _wanted_ to hate his alcohol abusing friend, but he didn't. Wilson was angry that he couldn't be angry. She studied House's weary face. She was all too familiar with the feeling.

"He should," House offered at last.

Cameron changed the subject. "I could have killed you," she muttered, shaking her head.

A slight sparkle arose in House's eyes.

"On the bus," she explained. "Your brilliant re-enactment." She shook her head again. "You could have died."

"Oh, come now," House remarked. "You wouldn't have _let_ me die. You would have brought me back to life yourself, just to strangle me dead again."

Cameron felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. "I thought about slapping you when you woke up."

"I was quite surprised you didn't."

"Yeah, well…."

"Chase," House said knowingly. "That guy seems to get in our way a lot." He winked.

Cameron smiled warmly. "It's gonna get better, you know."

House looked away, clearly done with the conversation.

Cameron fumbled to stand up, suddenly embarrassed by the intimacy of her coming here. "Goodnight House," she managed, heading for the door.

She couldn't tell, but she swore he mumbled a faint 'goodnight' back. The idea made her laugh. She must have imagined it.

"Dr. Cameron."

She froze, nearly smacking into Cuddy.

She looked down, guilty. "I was just…."

"I know," Cuddy insisted, tenderly. "And, I'm sure he appreciates it, in his own twisted way." She paused. "I get the feeling he's going to need all of the friends he can get."

"Well," Cameron said, tilting her head. "I suppose that makes two of us."

Cuddy nodded. "Foreman?" she suggested. "Chase?"

"Foreman, possibly," Cameron replied. "Not Chase. Never Chase."

"I'd assume as much." Cuddy pursed her lips. "Have you talked to Wilson?"

Cameron's eyes flicked to Cuddy guiltily. Cuddy knew she'd left with Chase earlier that evening. Cuddy knew she must have gone home and come back here, unable to sleep. Cameron's actions were always quite easily read and Cuddy was implying something that neither of the woman were able to admit to.

"No," she replied. "Not yet."

Cuddy nodded.

"What about you?" Cameron challenged lightly.

It was a seemingly normal question, but the significance pressed down on the two, a significance that would go unseen by any of the other doctors, a significance only they could understand.

"No," Cuddy said honestly. "Not yet."

So they were both guilty. They'd both chosen House over Wilson, chosen the self-loathing, arrogant man over the one in real, undeserved agony. They'd both been selfish. They needed House to know that they cared about him first and foremost. Cameron was almost disgusted with herself.

A look of shame from Cuddy read that she too hated the way things were. But, it was how they were, and neither could change it.

Cameron would always be House's girl and House would always be Cuddy's guy, while the only heroic man slipped away unnoticed, but not forgotten.

They'd hate themselves thoroughly, but it wouldn't change the truth. Of course Wilson knew they'd choose House. On some level Chase must even know.

House would always come first.

And they'd spend every moment after that trying to make this unfairness up to the people they should really care about.

xXx

Reviews are wonderful! I'm planning on posting the third chapter later on this week...the more reviews I get, the sooner I'll be likely to post!


	3. Another Talk at 4 am

Takes place right after _Dying Changes Everything_ when House more or less asks Cameron to talk to Wilson. I know the last chapter was short, and so is this one, but they will be getting longer. I felt bad for the delay, so I'm posting this one now in hopes that you'll forgive me for taking so long in updating.

Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter and I hope you'll bare with me...it's hard to get to any good Hameron moments, because the writers are determined to not only throw House and Huddy together, but also to erase Cameron from the show. (Not even a second of Cameron screen time in tonight's episode!) I can deal with Huddy, but not the absence of Cameron. Oh well, let's hope she gets more screen time as they've promised she will.

I'm done ranting. Enjoy!

xxx

Cameron squinted through the darkness, searching for the source of her agitation. She reached blindly to her right, knocking a book off of her nightstand. At last her fingers wrapped around the solid plastic of her phone and she pressed the _talk_ button expecting the worst. Late night phone calls seldom brought good news.

"Hello?" she questioned, trying to make herself sound more awake than she was. The drowsiness still engulfed her and coated her voice, changing her usual sweet tone to a raspy, low pitched tone.

"I can't tell...Chase or Cameron?" the voice on the other end pondered. "Oh, wait, it must be Cameron, because you only go to Chase's apartment, not vice versa. Sorry, the unusually unenthusiastic response made me believe you might be someone else."

"When am I ever glad to hear from you?" Cameron asked, annoyed. She leaned back in her bed, shutting her eyes slightly. If she was lucky, she'd be able to talk to House on auto pilot, while the rest of her went back to sleep.

"Hmm," House remarked sounding a bit offended. "I thought hearing my voice was the sole comfort you had left in your life." He paused. "I must have confused the two of us with a couple on _General Hospital_."

"I doubt the word comfort has ever been uttered in conjunction to your name," Cameron insisted, rolling onto her side. She checked her alarm clock. Four twenty eight.

"I liked you better before you dyed your hair," House remarked. "The chemicals in the dye must have soaked into your brain and changed your attitude towards me. I bet brunette Cameron would have been glad to hear from me while she was sleeping. I bet it was one of her many fantasies."

Cameron sighed in exhaustion. "You have woken me up with you harassing phone calls before," she reminded him. "And I didn't like them then. However they were job related, so I bit my tongue. This right now is just annoying."

She swore she heard House chuckle faintly, but couldn't be certain. She yawned slightly before continuing. "Are you dying?" she asked.

"Not today."

"Have you been kidnapped?"

"I can dream, can't I?"

"Has the hospital burnt down?"

"Now there's a clever idea."

"Then why are you bothering me?" Cameron snapped, still unable to wake herself up. "I only got to sleep around one and I have to be at work by seven. You may be a jerk but you're not downright cruel, so tell me what I've done to offend you so I can get back to sleep."

She lifted the phone from her ear as several loud beeps pierced in response.

"House!" she remarked now angry. "I'm hanging up."

"Okay, okay," he began, obviously sorry to end their game. "Did you talk to Wilson?"

"House, it's four in the morning!" Cameron whined.

"I thought we had the best conversations at this time," he offered simply.

Cameron wished he was there in person so she could throw the phone, and whatever else was in arm's reach, at his face. "Go away," she remarked childishly, wishing she had it in her to just hang up on him. But she would never do that, and House was aware of this. That was why he had called her in the middle of the night, knowing she would never turn him away.

She sighed and propped her head up with a few pillows. "Yes, I talked to Wilson."

"And?"

"And then I came home, got a shower, sent a few emails, finished some charts I didn't have time to get to, started a new book, and..."

"And what did he say?" House remarked impatiently.

Cameron was awake enough to smile at his impatience. She could harass him right back if this is how he wanted to play it. She wasn't going to simply surrender information to him that easily.

"We discovered we had a lot in common," she began, her mind reeling. "We both love red wine, chinese food, and throwing darts at the picture of your face on his living room wall. It's a great catharsis. You should try it some time. It really releases much of your pent up stress."

"I would say _I'd love to_, but I play the same game with a cutout of Cuddy's face," he replied smartly.

"Goodbye House," Cameron remarked, signifying that their conversation was over unless he got right to the point.

She heard him sigh. She could nearly picture him fighting the urge to utter whatever sardonic comment was on the tip of the tongue and she wondered if repressing these sarcastic urges was actually painful to him. She hoped so.

"How...is he?" he asked plainly, voice void of all humor. It must have all but killed him to string words together into a proper, relatable, meaningful sentence.

And for that, Cameron decided to reward him. "He's...better than I expected," she answered honestly. "But, he's not well. He's nowhere near the realm of fine."

House waited.

"What else do you want to know?" Cameron offered.

He didn't answer.

Cameron shook her head. He really was impossible.

"He seemed to like the company," she told him. "I'm going over tomorrow night and probably one day over the weekend. I talked to Cuddy and she's going to be stopping by when she can."

Still no answer.

She rolled her eyes. He was such a child.

"He's going to be fine," she added, thinking this might be what House was looking for. "And, he doesn't actually hate you...he won't stay mad forever," she insisted. "I mean..."

"Dr. Cameron, I would _love_ to sit here and listen to you babble incoherently for hours," House remarked, yawning theatrically, "but unfortunately, I have work in the morning, and I just can't indulge in your little fantasy of having long, meaningful conversations with me for a moment longer. I'd tell you to call Dr. Chase, but I doubt he has any thoughts strung together in that impossibly blonde little head of his. Save the talking for your girlfriends."

Then she heard a click. She exhaled loudly as she reached across her bed to hang the phone back up.

In House-ese, that meant _thank you_.

xxx

I know, not a lot...but it's something. The next chapter is significantly longer, I promise you. I'm almost through with it, so please post reviews to keep me going!


	4. Show Him Your Pouty Face

Takes place after Birthmarks, once Wilson decides to come back to PPTH.

The next two installments will seem very Wameron_ish_, but I promise that is not the direction I intend to go in...so long as the writers don't make it impossible to get back to Hameron. Anyway, the whole reason I'm writing Wilson/Cameron scenes, is because when House hires a detective to follow Wilson, he finds out that Cameron has been visiting Wilson, which House more or less made her promise to do. So, I was very upset that we weren't able to witness any of their conversations together...I think Wilson and Cameron would be great friends after the Amber incident, and I think it's a shame that now that Wilson's back at PPTH, they seem to never speak to one another. It just seems unrealistic to me. When you help someone through such a tragic experience, you'd think some sort of friendship would form. So, the next couple chapters detail that friendship and suggest why the friendship must remain under the radar. I apologize if Cameron seems slightly o/c, but I think she'd be much more relaxed around Wilson than we ever see her with anyone else on the show, and I think the friendship between the two of them could potentially mess with House's head in various (fun) ways.

I'll stop rambling now and let you read for yourself. Enjoy!

xxx

"That may just be the most compelling love story I've ever heard," Cameron teased, poking a fork into her pancake. She'd just managed to force Wilson to reveal his real reasons for coming back to PPTH. Upon uncovering the truth that House was what really persuaded Wilson to return, she couldn't help but tease him.

Wilson laughed. "Is that sarcasm I'm detecting from Allison Cameron?" he questioned as if taken aback. "Funny, I remember when we all thought you were nice and charming."

"Who said I wasn't still charming?" she asked, feigning offense. After a moment she broke out into a grin. "Well, it's good to have you back. How does it feel, sitting here in this high class cafeteria eating a disgusting meal of rubber pancakes with fake butter? Is it exactly like you pictured it would be?"

"Oh, yes, I've spent months imagining this exact moment, and let me tell you, I really nailed it, right down to the lovely aroma of organic syrup," Wilson chuckled. "No, but _really_, when I offered to take you to breakfast, this was the only place you could think of? You need to get out more."

Cameron grinned. "I thought it was the perfect setting for your return to the hospital," she insisted. "Plus I'm on call, so I figured I might as well be nearby. Not to mention, the thought of House catching us together is mildly entertaining."

Wilson glanced up at the clock. "Seven twenty six," he replied, nodding. "Not bad. Luring me here under false pretenses and timing everything so perfectly. We may have all misjudged your powers of manipulation."

Cameron nodded, looking quite proud of herself. "And that's exactly why all of my plans work so seamlessly," she insisted. "People should really stop underestimating me."

"You are an evil genius," Wilson surrendered, bowing exaggeratedly.

Cameron laughed. "Why, thank you," she remarked, taking a sip of her green tea. She smiled over the rim as she lowered it from her lips. "Well, someone's early today," she informed Wilson.

Wilson spun around and grinned as House walked into the cafeteria, twirling his cane aimlessly as he waited in the breakfast line. Cameron knew House was in early this morning, and whenever he was in early, he always ate breakfast at the same time, seven thirty.

Wilson turned back to Cameron. "So now what's your plan to get him to notice us?"

Cameron's eyes widened in disbelief. "Seriously?" she asked. "House would notice if a matchbox car was missing from his desk."

Wilson wagged his finger at Cameron. "But who's to say he'll actually come over here? He might see your evil ploy for what it actually is...an evil ploy."

Cameron tried to remain optimistic, but her face fell. "He wouldn't..." she began.

"No," Wilson remarked theatrically. "He would _never_ deny you the satisfaction of seeing his face plastered with confusion and betrayal while he attempted to figure out why we were sneaking around behind his back."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Okay, so he might ignore us," she agreed. "But it will still get to him. No matter what you say, I know it will still get to him."

"Maybe," Wilson replied. "But is it really worth the plastic pancakes?"

"I happen to enjoy synthetic food," Cameron said with a straight face. Her eyes scanned past Wilson to the breakfast line, but House was nowhere to be found. She sighed. "You win," she admitted.

Wilson smiled suspiciously.

Cameron narrowed her eyes. "He's standing right behind me, isn't he?"

Wilson nodded while Cameron spun around.

"Morning," House teased. "Were you saving my seat?"

Cameron ignored his remark. "Go harass Thirteen," she suggested. "Isn't that what you pay her for?"

"No, I paid _you_ to put up with me," House corrected. "Thirteen's merely eye candy."

"I thought Kutner was your eye candy," Wilson interjected, looking confused. "My mistake."

Cameron's eyes lit with laughter.

"And apparently Dr. Cameron is _your_ new eye candy," House rebuked, obviously not thrilled by Cameron and Wilson's newfound friendship.

Cameron nearly snorted while Wilson rolled his eyes.

"You figured it out," Cameron praised House. "We're sleeping together."

House grabbed a chair from a nearby table and dragged it over to their table. He sat down carelessly. "No, no," he remarked, shaking his head. "You're obviously _not_ sleeping together. For starters, you've already fixed him which leaves you with nothing left to desire. Also, even if he is relatively deficient, you'd never cheat on Chase, The Boy Wonder from Down Under. And most importantly, Wilson can't go after you," House explained. "I called dibs."

Cameron laughed loudly. "You can't call dibs on a person," she insisted.

"Oh, you totally can," Wilson disagreed. He shot her an apologetic look. "And, he did."

Cameron stared at Wilson, shocked. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

Wilson shrugged. "I'm just here to eat breakfast," he claimed innocently.

"See, he's on my side," House grinned, winking at Cameron. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the cafeteria only for staff use?"

Cameron furrowed a brow. "What are you planning on convincing me I was fired or something ridiculous like that?"

House pondered. "Like the idea, but not sure how I would develop it. Too messy. No, actually I was referring to the fact that you're not scheduled to work for another twenty four hours and yet here you are, abusing your employee privileges. It's such a shame. This new position of power has gone straight to your head."

"Yeah, _I'm_ the egomaniac," Cameron remarked sarcastically. "And it just so happens I'm on call."

"On call isn't the same as on the clock," House insisted.

Cameron crossed her arms. "Why do you have my schedule memorized?" she challenged.

"Interesting," Wilson offered, grinning wildly.

"Hey, you're on my side," House reminded Wilson. He smirked at Cameron. "Of course I have your schedule memorized. I have to know at exactly what time I should be arriving at my favorite peep hole going from the men's locker room to the women's locker room."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Nice cover," she complimented.

"Locker number 246," House added impressively, knowing it would make Cameron wonder as to whether he was lying or not.

She didn't falter for a moment, though she was a bit unnerved at his knowledge of her locker number. "Although I'm not officially on the clock," she agreed, "Wilson _did _invite me out for breakfast and he did pay, which according to the cafeteria guidelines, means I've as much right to be in here as you do. Even more probably, because I'm willing to bet that you didn't pay for everything on your tray."

House shrugged, revealing the hidden sausage links under his pancakes. "You have to know how to work the system," he defended. He turned to Wilson then looked back at Cameron, his eyes searching for something more than they were giving him. "So really, why are you two having breakfast together?"

Wilson eyed Cameron innocently. "We're friends," he said sincerely. "Some people have more than one person that they talk to regularly. It's considered normal. Healthy even."

Unfortunately, House was unable to compute sincerity. He could only comprehend suspicion, and this to him, was suspicious.

"Right," he remarked, dubiously, ignoring the insult. He turned to Cameron. "Money trouble?"

Cameron nearly choked on her tea. "You think I'm borrowing money from Wilson?"

"In return for a lap dance," Wilson sighed, mocking House's theory.

Cameron grinned. "Or," she offered. "Maybe I'm trying to make Chase jealous," she suggested.

Wilson grinned, playing along. "Because he doesn't pay enough attention to her, and me being the loyal oncologist friend that I am, well, I just _couldn't_ say no. I mean, have you ever seen her pouty face? It's no wonder she gets whatever she wants from Cuddy." He grinned at Cameron. "Come on, show him the face."

Cameron shot House a pouty look, fluttering her eyelashes strategically, before bursting into laughter along with Wilson.

House rolled his eyes, grabbing his tray and scoffing at the two. "Clever," he admitted. "But it doesn't mean I'm not right. _Something_ is going on with you two."

Cameron and Wilson exchanged amused glances as House walked away.

"Too far?" Wilson suggested, grinning wildly.

"Oh, I don't think we went far enough," she laughed.

Wilson laughed. "By the way, that was the _scariest_ pouting face I've ever seen. Seriously, don't ever do that again."

Cameron kicked him.

xxx

If you don't like the Wilson/Cameron dynamic, never fear...I promise more House/Cameron scenes are on their way...however, keep this in mind...Cuddy and House kiss...who would be the only one with enough knowledge of this incident to divulge the gossip to Cameron? House would never tell...but Wilson might... Also, keep in mind that House doesn't like to share...

Much more on its way! Thanks for all the reviews!

R/R!


	5. Chase Drinks His Coffee Black

Thanks for all of the reviews! Seriously, you guys are the best!

This installment takes place right before Lucky Thirteen...pretty much, it takes place a few days where chapter four left off.

Enjoy!

xxx

"That looks disgusting," Cameron winced, scrunching her nose as Wilson scooped a large forkful of sweet and sour duck into his mouth.

Wilson tried not to laugh as he managed to swallow his food. He pointed his fork at her accusingly. "Every time," he remarked, shaking his head. "Are you ever going to stop criticizing my favorite food? And don't give me that crazy argument about how chickens are ugly, and thus okay to eat...it didn't work months ago and it won't work now."

Cameron's eyes brightened. "Fine," she insisted, stirring her chicken in curry sauce. "I'll stop demeaning your gross choice of food when you stop cheating with that fork and start using chopsticks."

Wilson eyed her playfully, catching her eye. While he had her full attention he managed to feel for his unused chopsticks with his left hand, tossing them both at Cameron.

She jumped back in surprise, batting them away frantically with their hands.

Wilson broke into laughter at the sight. "They're not going to bite you," he insisted.

She smacked his forearm in retaliation.

"You started it," he insisted. "Just leave me and my duck alone. We're not bothering you."

"Fine," Cameron agreed, turning her body in the opposite direction, pretending to sulk.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You're not fooling me," he insisted. "Pretend to be upset all you want. I'm not apologizing."

"Apologizing for what?" House asked curiously, barging into Wilson's office. His eyes flicked from Wilson to Cameron. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Cameron sulking."

"Wilson cheating," Cameron challenged.

House shrugged. "Sounds about right," he replied, not prying any further. "Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asked, almost convincingly.

"Are we on the floor?" Cameron asked, playing dumb.

"Huh," Wilson tutted. "I hadn't noticed."

"It's really comfortable," Cameron nodded, lazily piling a few noodles into her mouth.

"I saw you got new seating in your office," Wilson replied, pointing at House.

"Yeah, I found that rather ironic," Cameron joined in. "House gets new furniture while your chairs mysteriously go missing. What a coincidence."

"Kutner spilled coffee all over my favorite chair," House explained, innocently enough. "Besides, it was time for a change of scenery. Some feng shui if you will."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Did you order Taub to steal my chairs?"

House laughed. "Taub, lift furniture! Don't be ridiculous! I sent Thirteen and Foreman."

Cameron snickered. "Yeah, that's plausible," she replied sarcastically. She turned to Wilson. "Must have been Kutner."

Wilson nodded in agreement. "Or the janitor. Those two have a twisted relationship with one another."

"Aren't all of House's relationships twisted?" Cameron asked rhetorically. She then shot Wilson a sympathetic look. "No offense," she teased.

"None taken," Wilson assured her. "Although I could direct that comment right back at you."

"No, House and I don't have a relationship," Cameron insisted, trying hard to maintain her cool demeanor without laughing. House looked like he could explode at any moment. "At least not on the same level as yours..."

"Seriously," House began, the amusement fading from his face rapidly. "What is going on with you two?" he demanded.

Unfortunately, Cameron couldn't stop her grin from forming. She wasn't sure if House was more angry that they weren't including him in their conversation, annoyed that they were making fun of him, or simply just wondering why they were having dinner together.

"I think he's jealous," she replied brazenly.

Wilson snorted into his diet coke, knowing how this comment would strike House.

House glared at them. "Does Cuddy know about this?"

Cameron feigned confusion.

Wilson shrugged. "I don't know."

"Cuddy doesn't like Thai food," Cameron insisted. "Otherwise we would have definitely invited her."

"And Chase?" House remarked, getting to his obvious suspicion.

Cameron played dumb. "Chase is working," she said simply.

"Yeah," Wilson agreed. "Curry and surgery don't go well together. Tried it once...nearly got sued."

"Ginger chicken?" Cameron offered, extending an unopened container towards House.

House made a disgusted face. "Have your little picnic," he remarked. "I'm going to go enjoy my new chairs."

"Suit yourself," Wilson shrugged, resisting the urge to smile until House had left the office.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble do you think we're going to be in for pulling that little stunt?" Cameron laughed.

Wilson grinned. "I'm expecting to find my car doors glued shut," he joked.

Cameron laughed again but after another minute, the two found themselves slumping into an uncomfortable silence.

"I feel kind of bad," Cameron spoke up.

Wilson shot her a disapproving look. "Don't," he warned her. "That's exactly what he's counting on."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to apologize or anything, but I do feel kind of bad."

"You offered him chicken," Wilson pointed out.

Cameron chuckled. "He _hates_ ginger chicken."

"I could learn so much from you," Wilson said, looking up at her as if she were a god.

Cameron hit him over the head with her chopstick. "When we go to free your chairs, what do you think about taking his toys?"

Wilson's eyes lit up. "I've always wanted a gameboy."

xxx

It started out rather uncomplicated, as most things do. Cameron visited Wilson a few times a week, until he returned to PPTH. After that they had dinner every Tuesday. She told herself it was because she wanted to make sure he was really okay. She wanted him to know he had someone to turn to in case he ever became sick of House's warped idea of empathy. She was being a good friend and helping someone in need. In a way, it was a service.

But the weeks turned into months, and still, they found themselves sticking to their dinner dates religiously. Cameron had told Chase when it first started that she and Wilson would be having dinner on Tuesdays, and he didn't seem to mind. He worked late on Tuesdays and besides, he understood that Wilson was going through a rough time. Not to mention, the only guy Chase seemed determined to keep Cameron away from was House. Wilson was an anti-House of sorts. It was all perfectly innocent.

At least, until she started with the questioning and the analyzing. Why did she worry about changing out of her scrubs? Why did she feel the need to check her hair and makeup? Why did the few silent moments between them now seem so full of tension? Why did she find herself having lunch with Wilson whenever he wasn't eating with House? Why was she stopping by to tell him silly, random anecdotes while he laughed at her with a smile that made her skin tingle? Why was he stopping by the ER so frequently? Why was he always bringing her chi tea in the morning? Why did she know how he liked his coffee?

She convinced herself that it could only be construed as suspicious, and that's why she was picking apart every little detail. Friends knew personal things about one another. She knew what House liked to eat, how he liked his coffee, and how to interpret his various looks. She knew his phone number cold. Of course she had a more complicated relationship with House, so perhaps he was a bad reference point.

Foreman was a friend, but she didn't know him very well. She just happened to get along with Wilson better than Foreman. That was no big deal. Besides, if Wilson had been a girl, she wouldn't be psychoanalyzing their every word. House may have suspected that something more was going on, but she and Wilson always laughed it off. Because, House was wrong...for once.

That evening, Chase found her in the lounge, waiting for him as she had promised. Well, actually her car was in the shop, so mostly, she just needed a ride home.

"Mind if I fix myself a cup of coffee before we go?" Chase asked. He looked exhausted.

"I got it," Cameron insisted, grabbing a mug and pouring the rich liquid with ease. It was then that it dawned on her. She stared blankly at the dark liquid, momentarily paralyzed by the significance of her revelation. "Um...how do you want it?" she asked, dumbly.

Chase wasn't fazed by the realization that was upsetting Cameron.

"Just black," he replied. "Like usual."

"Just checking," she smiled, eyeing the clock. It was only seven twenty. Wilson would still be here for another half hour or so. She handed the cup to Chase, who sat down, eager to be off his feet. "I'll be right back," she promised. "I think I left some charts at the nurses' station."

Chase nodded, too tired to really pay much attention to her. Cameron was grateful for this laid back response. Before Chase could come to and notice that Cameron was acting rather strangely, she darted out of the lounge, past House's empty office, and quickly turned the knob of Wilson's door, not even considering knocking.

"We can't have dinner Tuesday night," she bellowed, pushing into the office. Wilson rose to his feet, obviously startled by her intrusion. She figured she'd interrupted him from work of some sort.

"Okay," he said, not fully understanding. "But um..."

"No," Cameron said firmly, ignoring his need to change the subject. He looked as if he wanted to tell her something important, but she wasn't going to give him the chance. She shifted her weight, looking past the tall chair that sat between her and Wilson.

"I didn't know how Chase liked his coffee," she replied as if this was the most astounding discovery of her life.

Whatever was pressing on Wilson's mind seemed to be replaced by confusion. "Okay," he said slowly, probably wondering if she was on drugs.

Cameron shook her head. "No, you don't get it," she began. "I didn't know how he liked his coffee. I know how House likes his coffee," she said plainly. "And I know how _you_ like your coffee." She paused. "I've been dating Chase for _two _years," she added. Another pause. "Don't you get it?"

Wilson locked eyes with her, proving silently that he understood. His lack of words confused her though. She stared, perplexed as his eyes shifted from her to the high backed chair in front of her. Cameron inhaled roughly, finally understanding.

The man in the chair swung around.

"Go on," he said mockingly, as if out to prove that he found her dilemma completely amusing.

Wilson stared at her apologetically.

Cameron tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit. She sighed. Talking openly with Wilson was easy. She could be vulnerable and say whatever was on her mind. Doing the same with House only resulted in torment.

She wrung her hands anxiously. "Okay," she said, taking a few steps back, closer to the safety of the door. "So, uh...Tuesday is off," she repeated.

Wilson nodded. "Yeah, uh, I'm actually glad you came in here, because I forgot I have a um...lecture series...I mean, a series of lectures this Tuesday, so..."

"Great," Cameron cut him off. Everyone in the room knew he was lying, but Cameron was still grateful for the effort.

She flung herself out of Wilson's office as quickly as possible, back leaning against the door. She cringed at the knowledge she'd just unintentionally imparted to House.

xxx

It had been easy to avoid House the next few days. With hundreds of patients and more coming in by the dozens every minute, keeping busy proved to be a simple task. She'd seen Wilson a few times and exchanged casual conversation with him. It made her sad to know that from now on, their conversations might be limited to only greetings.

Cuddy had come around an hour earlier, pleading with Cameron to help House with his charts. Naturally, in the past year, he still hadn't learned the importance of paperwork. Cameron wasn't really surprised to hear he'd let his patient's files go. He had become more creative with hiding the charts however, having stashed them inside of empty lockers for months. Cuddy had only recently uncovered the issue.

Cameron protested, insisting that House had to learn to take care of his own work or dictate the charting duties to someone on the team. Cuddy apologizes, agreed with Cameron, and assured her this would be the last time. However, there was a year's worth of charts scattered across House's floor and once they were caught up, Cuddy insisted that she'd make sure House or one of his fellows stayed on top of the paperwork.

Cuddy was usually true to her word, but still, Cameron doubted the charting would ever get done.

So, reluctantly, she entered House's office, gathering charts with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. She found the room empty and was glad not to have to deal with House's presence. She sat in his office for hours, hunched over the paperwork, opting to forge his signature as she had done so many times before. It was much easier than flipping through every chart, getting him to sign on every x indicated. It was then that she wondered if House let it slip to Cuddy that Cameron could replicate his signature perfectly. This had probably been his whole plan to torture Cameron.

Even for House, she was impressed.

Foreman appeared in and out of the conference room frequently, stopping in a few times to make small talk. He filled her in on the latest case they were working on, and came back to tell her the results of their day.

The fact that Foreman felt the need to include Cameron bothered her slightly. She wondered if she'd spend the rest of her career fighting to convince people that she was not in love with House and not upset by her new position in the ER. Hadn't she been the only one of her fellows to leave willingly and not come back? She thought people might remember that she'd not only left, but turned down House's requests for her to return to the team several times.

Apparently, that meant nothing. People would always view her as the sweet girl in love with House. She'd thought her newfound toughness made an impression on Cuddy, yet here she was playing secretary to the one person in the hospital who deserved it least. To add to the irony, the only person who seemed to even appreciate her growth was the very person she was trying to set herself apart from. It was frustrating.

She looked up from the stack of charts she was drowning in only to find another stack sitting in a bin across from her. She scowled. This was the payment she got for doing her job well? It was crazy.

The sound of the conference room door opening jarred her from her thoughts as she sat back down at the desk she so frequently used to inhabit. She glanced up a slow smile spreading across her face. She pulled her glasses off slowly.

"I think House may have been onto something all of those years he was cursing Cuddy," she joked.

Wilson laughed appreciatively. "You know you only got roped into this because House let it slip to Cuddy that you forged his signature better than he could himself."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "After the hundredth signature or so I kind of came to that conclusion," she remarked. She eyed his jacket. "Done for the night?"

Wilson nodded. "Yeah. I saw you when I was walking by...figured the least I could do was offer you this."

Cameron smiled lightly as Wilson handed her a sandwich.

"Thanks," she said, accepting it.

"Oh, if you want to thank me, make sure you're eating it when House comes in," he smirked. "I promised him food."

Cameron grinned. "Deal," she nodded. Even though she knew Wilson understood, she started to apologize for what must have been the twentieth time. She wished the scene in his office had never occurred. But, before she could get a word out, her train of thought was interrupted.

"He's been married three times!" House called out, entering his office, his team on his tail. Foreman shot Cameron a look of sympathy. "He cheated," House remarked, nodding his head towards Wilson. "Isn't that something you're hopelessly against? I remember a story about a dead husband and some guy named Joe who you _didn't_ cheat with, correct?"

Cameron sighed as she finished another signature before giving House a pointed look.

"We've been through this," he insisted. "Your glares can't literally pierce me."

"I can try," Cameron said icily.

Wilson shook his head, looking slightly amused. "You can't remember Thirteen's name, yet you remember Cameron's ex..."

House silenced him with a look.

"Leaving," Wilson replied in defeat. He exchanged a knowing look with Cameron before exiting.

"Besides," House remarked, returning to his normal sardonic self. "I thought Thirteen's name really _was _Thirteen."

Thirteen looked mildly annoyed. "Can we go?"

House ignored her, instead turning his attention to the half eaten sandwich in Cameron's hands. Cameron grinned haughtily.

"Are you eating my sandwich?"

Cameron shrugged. "Maybe," she remarked nonchalantly. "Did you tell Cuddy I could forge your signature?"

House's eyes lit up with recognition. "I was merely trying to get you fired," he insisted. "I thought impersonating another doctor was grounds for some kind of punishment."

"Obviously it is," Cameron muttered, motioning to the paperwork engulfing her.

"Later," Thirteen called to Kutner and Taub. She and Foreman headed towards the door.

"Bye," House called playfully. "And next time our patient almost dies, do me a favor and _don't_ go running to the parents."

"They had a right to know," Foreman insisted, defending Thirteen. Thirteen held her cool, glaring at House effortlessly.

"Aw, you two remind me of someone..." he remarked, grinning at Cameron.

"Oh please," Cameron muttered, rolling her eyes.

"She's right," House conceded. "Chase would be standing there all annoyed with his arm wrapped protectively around Cameron's waist...just in case I got any ideas...and Cameron would be pushing him away from her." He winked at Thirteen. "You two are much better off."

Foreman waved apologetically to Cameron as they left.

Cameron pushed her glasses back on, getting back to her paperwork. She allowed the conversation to fade around her, only glancing up quickly to wave goodbye to Taub and Kutner as they exited.

"Are we in a fight?" House asked mockingly, once all of the ducklings had dispersed.

Cameron scowled, peering up at him. "Go away."

"My conference room."

"Well, if you want to play it that way, these are _your_ files," Cameron retorted.

House grinned. "I thought you liked cleaning up other people's messes," he replied innocently.

"Not when it's not my job anymore," she remarked.

House pretended to look wounded. "You mean all of this time our relationship was based on a lie? You were just after the money?" He shook his head. "I should have known. All the pretty ones want is money..."

"House," Cameron began, warning him. "I have a lot of work to do...a lot of _your_ work to do, and I'd appreciate it if..."

"Huh," House mused, staring down at the current chart in Cameron's hand. "You really have my signature down. No more loopy G's."

It was impossible to even stay angry at him. He was that much of a child.

Cameron sighed. "Can you just ask me whatever it is you've been hanging around waiting to ask me so that I can finish this and go home?"

"To Chase?"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "To bed."

"With Chase?"

"None of your business."

"My favorite topic."

"_House_."

"Or is it _Wilson_ you're seeing these days," he began. "It's hard to keep up with you."

Cameron shot House and incredulous look. She should have known this was about Wilson. She leaned back in her chair, _his chair_, and crossed her arms. "Wilson and I are just friends," she said chastising him. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to steal him away from you."

House's eyes narrowed. "So that little scene in his office..."

"Had nothing to do with him or _you_ for that matter," Cameron insisted. "Just let it go House, you don't need to know everything."

House winced. "It's kind of my thing," he remarked.

Cameron pursed her lips. "Fine," she began, leaning forward so that she was closer to him. "I'm not in love with Wilson and I'm not in love with you."

House looked delighted. "And you're not in love with Chase."

Cameron blinked, trying to hide her surprise. She hadn't been expecting that.

She didn't answer.

House's grin grew wider.

She slammed the chart shut.

"Fine," House said, backing down. "I'll leave you to your work."

"_Your_ work," Cameron correcting, eyes already on the next chart. She pretended not to listen as House made his way into his adjoining office, nothing but a half inch of glass separating them. She flipped files open exaggeratedly, knowing he could hear her, and she pretended not to be distracted by the blaring of his television set. She also didn't ask him why he was watching tv here, after hours, when he could be at home, doing the same thing.

Though she was certain he'd lie and say something incredulous, on the off chance that he was feeling rather open tonight, she didn't want to know the real answer.

She was, however, unable to hold back her laughter when she began to hear him searching frantically through all of his desk drawers, cursing mildly. She forced herself to look through the wall into his office, where House seemed deeply annoyed at not being able to find the object of his affections.

She wondered where Wilson would have put it, or if he still had it with him. Either way, she was glad he'd pulled off the prank.

She was even more glad when she spotted the gameboy sitting in plain sight, in the very last place House would ever look for anything; his mail bin.

xxx

Okay, I already have the next three installments written...I'm just tweaking them a bit...just fair warning...this story will probably only cover the rest of this season, because all of the Huddy undertones are making it impossible to squeeze any Hameron moments into existence...but we'll see what the writer's have in store for us...

Oh, and by the way, I'm aware Foreman and Thirteen aren't dating yet...I was just hinting at their upcoming relationship, and House was merely joking when he made that crack about them.


	6. Making the Team

I feel like I should just title the chapter, Angry Allison, because well, Cameron's just angry in this one. It takes place after Joy, and thus, after the kiss.

And there's a Cuddy/Cameron scene, because honestly, those two need to duke it out.

Okay, so it's not that intense, because that would just be completely out of character...but it's still fun.

Next installment will be up in 24 hours...it's already finished.

Enjoy!

xxx

"What's up with Cuddy?" Cameron asked, catching Wilson as he walked towards the front entrance of the hospital. She followed him outside, matching stride with him.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Wilson insisted, slowing down. "Did she say something to you?"

Cameron shrugged, feeling a bit childish for running to Wilson in the first place. But Cuddy had been tense around Cameron all morning. Cameron had gotten the distinct impression that Cuddy was mad at her. Then, when House stumbled upon the two of them in the hallway, Cuddy wouldn't look at House, let alone speak to him, leaving Cameron to deal with his antics. It was all very unCuddy-like.

"She's just acting strangely," Cameron replied. "And I get the feeling that it has something to do with House."

Wilson raised his eyebrows at her accusingly.

Cameron shook her head. "It's not like that," she insisted flatly. "I just want to know why Cuddy's acting so weird, because it's affecting me. She's sending me to clean up all of House's messes, and she won't even talk to him. Something happened, and that something is interfering with my job. So spill."

Wilson stopped, leaning against the side of his car. "This is none of your business," he insisted. "You know that right? In fact, you know that by asking this, you're acting just like House would?"

"Well, when in doubt, my motto is _What Would House Do_?" Cameron smirked.

Wilson grinned. "Cuddy lost a baby," he said, as if this statement could account for everything going on between House and Cuddy.

Cameron shrugged. "I know that. I was there." She looked up at Wilson. "It's just, she took three days off. _Cuddy_. Not that I don't understand how this must have affected her, but Cuddy keeps her personal life and professional life very separate." She crossed her arms, arriving at her point. "Something _must_ have happened with House. Otherwise, she would have buried herself in her work...she wouldn't have avoided it."

"Look, I don't know anything for certain," Wilson began, obviously feeling guilty about revealing information. "I just know that House stopped by to check on her Tuesday night. At her house."

Cameron nodded.

"I know that seems out of character for him but..."

"No," Cameron started. "That sounds just about right." She quickly fixed her expression. Why had she sounded _bitter_?

Wilson was intrigued. "Go on..."

"I just meant that I'm not surprised," Cameron replied. "I mean...that's what he does. He acts like an asshole and then he shows up when you least expect it, says something utterly meaningless and hopes you grasp some semblance of meaning from his words, and then leaves, feeling like he's paid his dues."

Wilson grinned. "But, uh, you wouldn't know this from personal experience or anything..." he teased.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I just mean that Cuddy should have expected that much. House may be a jerk sometimes, but he always has to have the last word."

"I'm pretty sure he had more than just the last word..."

Cameron eyes darted upwards, her neck snapping immediately so that her head could turn towards Wilson. She tapped her tongue against her teeth anxiously before commenting.

"You think something happened?" she asked, shifting her weight.

"No, _you_ think something happened," Wilson replied, looking amused. "_Remember_?"

Cameron bit her lip. "Okay, fine. Stop tormenting me and tell me."

"Do you _really_ want to know?" He was mocking her, but Cameron detected a hint of sincerity in her words. He was worried that upon learning what had happened, she might wish he had never told her.

But Cameron wasn't one for blissful ignorance.

"It's either something really terrible...or something really..." She didn't know what word to use. _Nice_? Nice for Cuddy maybe.

"They kissed," Wilson said simply, looking automatically at Cameron, waiting to gage her reaction. "He kissed her."

Cameron nodded. _Bet she kissed back_, she thought bitterly. "That's good," she said quickly.

Wilson lost control, unable to hold back his laughter. "You're annoyed," he pointed out.

"No," Cameron shrugged. "Why would I be annoyed?" _Don't fucking answer that_.

Cameron was not House. If she had been, Wilson would have continued on with their banter, not holding back on account of her feelings. However, she was _Cameron_ and Wilson knew better than to say something out of line. Joking was fine, but this particular conversation had obviously struck a cord with her.

"He was probably just..."

Cameron shook her head. "I should get back," she replied. "Lunch break's over. And I have to turn in all of House's files to Cuddy."

"I thought you finished them a couple weeks ago."

"Oh, you mean the ones that we found in the locker room? Yeah, I finished those quickly enough. However, we just found more in the janitor's closet." Cameron shook her head. "Big surprise, Cuddy made me do those, too."

Wilson shook his head. "Cuddy's just..."

Cameron waited for Wilson's big explanation of Lisa Cuddy. She waited for the long speech he was bound to give her on why she should be nice to Cuddy, even though Cuddy was making her job impossible.

But Wilson never finished his sentence. He just thought better of it, and turned away.

xxx

Cameron dropped the last bundle of files in a bin on the floor of Cuddy's office. She stared reproachfully up at her boss, giving her a look that indicated that if it wasn't for the very fact that Cuddy could fire her, she'd have a mouthful of remarks ready for her.

Cuddy nearly laughed at Cameron's anger. Three years ago, Cameron would only go against Cuddy when she thought House was being treated unfairly, when in all reality, he'd received more exceptions than any other doctor. Cameron knew that, but she would stand up for him anyway, insisting that he be given special allowances. Now, Cameron stood before her, upset about how unfairly she was being treated, due to a special allowance made for House. It was irony at its best.

"It's really the last time," Cuddy insisted, though both knew Cuddy could care less about whether Cameron was upset over cleaning up House's messes.

"There are interns who would gladly chart for free," Cameron offered, an edge to her voice. Half of her wanted to piss Cuddy off. The other half just felt bad about being mean. Cuddy had to still be in pain. But just as Cameron started to soften, an image flooded her head. She tensed, holding firm to her anger.

Cuddy crossed her arms. "But I can't trust interns to do the job right. You, I _can_ trust. I know it may seem like a stretch, but it's actually a compliment."

Cameron had to force herself not to roll her eyes. "Well, then, in the future, I'd prefer if you insulted me."

Cuddy laughed. She couldn't help it. Hostility was not an emotion one ever expected to see from Allison Cameron. It was, well, _funny_.

"Well, thank you anyway," Cuddy concluded.

Cameron tilted her head. "Why are you always so willing to go out of your way for him?" she asked. She knew this question would eat at Cuddy. It would make her uncomfortable.

Cuddy tensed. She smiled at Cameron knowingly. "I don't know." She leaned back in her chair. "Why are _you_ always so willing to go out of your way for him?"

Cameron was now thoroughly annoyed. "I didn't want to organize his charts. You made me."

"_He _made you," Cuddy corrected. "If I hadn't have asked you, he would have found some way to get you to do it. You know that."

Cameron shrugged. "So, I wouldn't have agreed."

Cuddy stifled a laugh. "_Please_," she remarked.

Cameron narrowed her eyes, insulted. "I don't do everything he asks me to do. I _never_ did everything he wanted me to do, and you know that."

Cuddy relented. "I'm sorry," she insisted. "You're right."

Cameron nodded indifferently. She eyed Cuddy for a moment before acting on her suspicions. "Are you avoiding him?"

Cuddy flinched. It was a near half second of weakness, but Cameron had caught it. And Cuddy knew it. Cameron genuinely felt horrible now. Why was she doing this? What did she think it would accomplish?

"I'm not avoiding him," Cuddy said, her eyes clashing with her words.

Cameron chuckled. "Well, that explains why you dictated the job to me rather than facing House yourself."

"I'm not avoiding him," Cuddy said simply. It was too late though. The damage had been done. Cameron knew.

"Good luck," Cameron offered, rather sardonically. She didn't mean it, at least not in the way it came across. She meant, _good luck when he breaks your heart_. She had persuaded herself into thinking that heartache could be the only possible outcome of Cuddy's little crush. House wouldn't pursue a relationship with Cuddy. That would mean...

Well, that would mean that House was capable of opening up to someone other than her. That would also mean that House was able to love again. It would mean that the words she'd once spoken to him were true. It would mean that he really just couldn't love her.

Raw acknowledgment flashed in Cuddy's eyes and this time, it was Cameron who was made the fool. Cuddy knew.

Cameron knew.

Which only meant that House had to know.

Or didn't want to address it.

"Goodbye Dr. Cuddy," Cameron said cordially.

"Bye Dr. Cameron," Cuddy said, sounding a little unstable.

Green and pink and white blobs zoomed past Cameron, their faces all blurred. She could nearly feel Cuddy's eyes burning through her scrubs as she pleaded with the elevator, nearly jamming her finger as she pounded the tip against the button.

"Going up?" House asked as Cameron stepped on, astonished at his timing.

"No, I just pressed the up button to try and confuse the elevator," she replied curtly, knowing that her comeback was rather mediocre. She didn't care. She just wasn't in the mood to talk to House.

"Why were you talking to Cuddy?"

"Why do you _know_ I was talking to Cuddy?"

"Why else would you be on her floor?"

"Why would you be..." Cameron gave up, sinking down into herself. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. She noticed House making a peculiar face. "What are you doing?" she snapped.

"Trying to remember how much I drank last night..."

"Why?"

"Because you're acting like I slept with you and never called you back," House remarked

Cameron cursed the light smile that pulled at her lips. "Are you an only child?" she asked, turning to him quickly. "'Cause everything's always got to be about _you_."

House smirked. "Now you're acting like Cuddy."

Cameron's eyes widened. "I'm not _acting_ like anyone," she insisted.

House studied her face. "You're _mad_ at Cuddy?"

"So?"

"So, it's just not often that we're on the same team."

"_You're_ mad at Cuddy?" Cameron remarked disbelievingly.

"I'm always mad at Cuddy," House reminded her, feeling like he had just missed a crucial part of the conversation.

"Yeah, even after..." Cameron stopped, letting her voice trail off. She'd spent years developing enough of a shell around her, so that incidents like this wouldn't affect her at work. She smiled smugly at House. "Fine," she said, humoring him. "You're mad at Cuddy."

House shot her a juvenile look as the elevator opened. "I don't know if I want to be mad at Cuddy now. I'm not so sure I want to be on your team." He sounded like a three year old.

"Yeah," Cameron nodded, stepping out of the elevator, already feet ahead of him. "That's your problem isn't it? You never know which team to stick with."

She was tempted to turn around, dying to know whether her words had provoked any sort of emotion from within him. She wanted to see if he faltered, if his eyes widened, if he appeared to be at a loss for words.

But then, she'd be no better than he was. She'd be living off of little moments that in retrospect, would do nothing for her. She'd be living in the same deluded world as House.

So, she kept walking, heading for the front doors, though she swore she couldn't detect the sound of a cane anywhere.

This was because House had been left frozen in his footsteps.

But Allison Cameron did not know that. And she told herself that she did not need to know that.

xxx

Next chapter...House is drunk...Wilson and Chase take the backseat to House...and Cameron's hair is brought up. Oh, and House gets Cameron a gift...sort of...I know, I'm cruel. Review!!!


	7. Let's Never Talk About This Again

Okay, this takes place right before "The Itch"...not much more to say...except, thanks for all of the amazing reviews!

xxx

"Please?" Wilson begged. He was up to his shoulders in charts that had been accumulating rapidly from his time off. Also, with the Amber situation still a bit raw, he found himself unable to follow through on House's latest request.

Cameron was about to decline, knowing how Chase would feel about her agreeing to Wilson's favor, but the personal tone in Wilson's voice made her reconsider. Of course he wouldn't want to drive House home from the bar. House was likely to be obliterated and the whole time Wilson would be thinking of Amber. It was like a car crash waiting to happen. She cringed...bad metaphor.

She frowned, eyeing Chase sitting unknowingly on the couch, arms stretched out behind him.

"Okay," she agreed. She lowered her voice. "I'll call you when he's home."

"Thank you," Wilson replied and she could hear the gratitude coating his voice. "I just..."

Cameron stopped him. "It's okay," she interrupted. "I understand."

She could almost feel the weight lifting off of Wilson. "I would have called someone else, except..."

"Can't think of anyone who can tolerate him sober, let alone drunk?" she joked.

"That about covers it," Wilson laughed. "We're the only two. Cuddy tends to jump on and off the list."

"Can you blame her?"

"No!" Wilson agreed enthusiastically. "In fact, I think there's something pathologically wrong with us for _not_ hating him."

Cameron grinned. "You might be on to something," she agreed.

"Well, I apologize in advance," Wilson continued. "I'm sure he'll be as charming as always."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I would expect no less."

"Thanks," Wilson repeated.

"It's fine," she insisted, even though they both knew it wasn't. "I'll see you tomorrow."

With that said, she hung up, quite torn. She was happy to help Wilson in any way possible, and she knew it was too soon for him to be picking House up from the bar. In fact, it might always be too soon for that to start happening again. It was too personal for Wilson, and the fact that House even called him bothered her a bit. She knew he was an ass a good amount of the time, but not like this. Not to Wilson.

Chase would be livid, she knew that much. She would never understand why House was such a sore subject for him. She wasn't dating House. She'd chosen Chase. She hated having the same fight over and over again.

And that's precisely why when he asked why she was putting her jacket on, she told him that Wilson's car had broken down and she was going to pick him up from the hospital to drive him home.

Chase said, "Okay," as if it didn't matter in the least that she was helping Wilson, so she convinced herself she'd done the right thing by lying. She'd been lying a lot lately, but wasn't it better than hurting him? You weren't supposed to hurt the ones you loved, so if lying prevented them from getting hurt, perhaps it wasn't too horrible of a thing to do.

A few minutes later she spotted House's bike as she turned into the narrow parking lot of his favorite bar. She found it amusing that Wilson never told her where House was. He just assumed she would know. And it never even occurred to her that she ought to ask. They both knew she knew.

She pushed into the smoky bar, eyes instantly blinking to adjust to the dull light. She instinctively tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, a defense mechanism she often felt herself repeating when slightly anxious. Rather than worry about all of the normal concerns that ran through her mind when she was alone with House, she set her mind on the task at hand. After all, she was just doing this for Wilson. It was a chore, nothing more.

Spotting him proved to be a simple task. His face was slightly red and she wondered how many times he had fallen off of his barstool. The bartender, a young guy who appeared to be in his early 20s, looked overly annoyed with House. His crazed expression brought a slight smile to her face as he slowly recognized her and processed why she was standing right in front of him. He reeked of booze and the faint lingering aftermath of the usual cologne he always wore.

"Either Wilson got hot or I'm hallucinating again."

Cameron smirked. "Wilson's bombarded at work," she offered simply, not accepting the alternate barstool he patted for her. She stood concretely.

"He's not busy," House insisted. "He didn't want to come."

Cameron furrowed a brow. "Can you blame him?"

House didn't answer. She hadn't really expected him to. He couldn't deal with any emotions associated with sadness or guilt. He'd just pretend they weren't having the conversation they were having. It was how he dealt.

"Come on," she said, extending her arm.

"Where are we going?" he toyed. "Your place or mine? Because, I've got better cable, but I have a feeling you have better sheets."

Cameron pulled him off of the barstool. She stuck out her hand. "Money?" she asked.

House couldn't have been more delighted. "So we _are_ going to have sex," he grinned.

Cameron smacked his shoulder. "For your tab!" she remarked, gesturing to the agitated bartender who stood in front of them.

House shrugged. "Oops, must have forgot my wallet in my other jeans."

Cameron's eyes narrowed. "You owe me," she hissed, fishing a credit card out of her purse. She handed it to the bartender.

House grinned at the bartender. "The misses _always_ gets so touchy when I don't come right home after work."

It was Cameron's turn to strike. She took the card back from the bartender and smiled. "He's actually my _grandfather_. He just hasn't been the same since the war," she replied, smirking at House.

House reluctantly took a hold of Cameron's arm to steady himself on their way out.

"You know," he began as soon as they had stepped foot outside. "I don't think that bartender will ever be the same again. One minute I'm hitting on you, and the next you're telling him I'm your grandfather? That's enough to mess someone up for life."

"He'll survive," Cameron insisted.

"And nice attempt at trying to insult me with the grandfather crack," he mumbled.

"I thought it was fitting," Cameron replied, unlocking her car. "Can you get in or do you need help with that, too?" she asked, not bothering to hide her agitation.

He smiled childishly. "I may fall," he grinned. "And if I do, I would prefer if you were underneath of me when it happened."

Cameron shut the door on his cane, causing it to bounce back open. He smirked. She scowled.

"You know, I'm beginning to forget why I agreed to help Wilson," she fumed, starting the ignition.

"Well, Wilson's a nice guy," House concluded. "Of course, the fact that you get to spend time with me and Chase can't bitch about it...well, that's just a hidden bonus, isn't it?"

Cameron frowned. "If I actually wanted to spend time with you, I would."

"No, you wouldn't, because I quite frankly, have better things to do," he insisted, leaning against the door. "What about my bike?"

"You can get it tomorrow."

House shot her a taunting look. "I'll _walk_ to my bike tomorrow?"

Cameron hadn't thought that far ahead. She wasn't supposed to plan out how to make sure everything went all right in House's life. That wasn't her job anymore. In fact, as he had rudely pointed out time and time again, it never was.

She shrugged. "I'm sure Wilson can give you a ride."

"Or," House offered, "You could stay at my place, we'll empty my TiVo of all programs, and then you can bring me back here in the morning."

She did hesitate. Two years ago, she would have given anything to hear him extend any such offer, even if he was in a drunken stupor. She would have taken it as a sign that he was actually a human being, capable of feeling emotions such as loneliness. But, she wasn't as gullible as she had been back then, and House certainly wasn't any more human than he had ever been, much as she might have tried to convince herself he was. He was still House.

"No," she said quickly, not even giving an explanation. The best way to reject someone like House was to leave them stunned and not feed into their inner craving for details.

"_All right_," he sighed, theatrically. "You win. Your place it is."

Cameron's eyes widened. "You are _not_ going to my place."

"Is this because of the kangaroo?" House asked in his best impression of an Australian accent. "Because, I'm sure we could all come to some sort of agreement that best..."

"I'm taking you home and Wilson can figure the rest out in the morning," she said firmly. "I didn't sign on to babysit you all night."

House sighed. "All right. But I'm going to need help getting into the shower."

She couldn't suppress her laughter. "You will _never_ change," she insisted, grinning as she pulled up to his apartment.

He smiled. "You wouldn't like me if I was any different."

She softened slightly. He was right. They both knew it. "Which makes me an idiot," she grinned, turning his accurate statement into a joke. "Come on, let's get you inside."

"No, I can do it," House insisted, opening the door. Cameron shook her head as he tried to stumble up to his doorway fueled on pride. House and his ego. She should have known he'd only allow her to help up to a certain extent.

She decided to get out of her car when she saw him leaning against his front door, his leg obviously throbbing. "What's wrong?" she called out, arm draped over her open door.

"Keys," he muttered. "I can't find them."

She scanned the front seat. No sign of his keys anywhere. He must have left them at the bar. She quickly turned her car off and rushed over to him. "I'll call the bar when I get home and have them hold them for you," she promised, unlocking his door.

He'd given her a key during her third year of working with him, after she nearly broke down his door when he was detoxing. He just extended it to her one day, without saying a word, but she had never used it until this point. She always knocked. She knew he wanted her to knock. The key was just an attempt to show her that he did appreciate her worrying about him. It was a security feature given to her in case he ever tried something stupid again. It was his little way of giving her some sort of power over him.

No one knew she had it. She didn't see why it would matter. Still, as she slid the key into the cylinder and turned the knob, she felt his eyes weighing down on her, and she could almost picture him traveling back through his memories to the exact moment he'd decided to give her a copy. No doubt he was even more humiliated than he had been a few minutes before. Cameron thought it best not to make any mention of this.

She stepped inside and flicked on the light switch for him. He paused at the doorway, analyzing her.

"I'll have Wilson call you," she said quickly in a businesslike voice. She attempted to leave, but House made no move to unblock her pathway to the door. "_House_," she said severely, feeling like a mother dealing with an ornery child.

"Do you ever wonder..." he began, his eyes glazing. Whatever was running through his head was coming from a far away place, a place in his mind Cameron had long ago given up hope of ever understanding. Quite obviously, this was the alcohol talking.

"Wonder what?" she asked quietly, trying not to look at all affected by his sudden change in demeanor.

"What might have happened," he replied ambiguously, as if that was enough to satisfy her question. She began to ask him to elaborate further, but he moved to the right, placing distance between them. "It doesn't matter," he insisted firmly, indicating that their discussion was over.

Cameron bowed her head down, making her way to the door. "Goodnight, House," she said quietly, stepping outside. She wasn't sure what else to say. She spun around to face him, but no sooner had she turned than House slammed the door shut, loudly.

She tried to combat the feeling of being rejected yet again with the logic that she shouldn't still care whether House liked her or not. She was one of the closest things he had to a friend. She had his key. They had...a history.

He invited her to stay, began to open up, grew angry with himself for showing any signs of vulnerability, and then threw her back out of his life. It was harsh, certainly, but it was enough to convince her that House had to care, at least a little bit. He wouldn't go through all of the trouble to hurt her otherwise.

She ambled slowly back to her car, raising her cell phone to her ear. "Wilson," she began. "The target has reached the destination," she smiled, faking being okay, because she'd learned that sometimes that was the best way to deal with her life. "And if anyone asks, you had a flat tire."

xXx

"Dinner possibly," Cameron remarked, cutting the remnants of a stitch rapidly. She stepped away from her patient and turned to Chase. "I'm swamped," she apologized, declining his lunch invitation.

Chase nodded understandingly. "I'm done in a few hours, so if you're done early enough, give me a call."

Cameron nodded. "Okay," she agreed, smiling as Chase started to leave.

"_Good day mate_!" House mocked, sweeping past Chase as if he had barely noticed him. Chase turned to retort, but though better of it. He'd become a pro at not letting House's childlike insults get to him. Instead he just kept walking towards the cafeteria.

Cameron shot House a disapproving look. "If you've come here to mock, at least grab a patient or two."

House smirked. "Does that sound like me?"

"The mocking or the helping me part?" Cameron asked.

"Take a guess."

"What do you want?" Cameron asked as Wilson headed over towards them.

"To give you this," House remarked, extending his hand.

"A _chart_?" Cameron remarked in disbelief. "I'm up to my ears in patients and you want to tack another one onto my list?!"

"Just _look_ at it," House scowled, rolling his eyes.

Cameron's lips thinned in anger, but she proceeded to open the folder.

House slapped his hand on top of the file. "_Not now_," he hissed, eyeing Wilson.

"But you just said..." she started in protest.

"Turkey, lettuce, and cheese, no mayo?" Wilson replied, waving a sandwich in the air.

"Don't mind if I do," House began, reaching for it.

"Not for you," Wilson muttered, turning to Cameron. "It's for those of us who are too busy doing actual work to stop and eat."

Cameron grinned, accepting the sandwich. She knew it was Wilson's way of thanking her again for the previous night. House looked perturbed.

He smirked. "Cameron you eat?" he joked. "Hmm...must be bulimia, then."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Wilson," she said, turning away from House.

House pretended to look nauseated from Wilson's act of kindness.

"Come on," Wilson muttered, indicating that House should follow. "We can go have lunch and maybe I'll even let you throw pickles at Cuddy again. That always cheers you up."

"How could throwing pickles at Cuddy not cheer anyone up?" House questioned, gaining stride with Wilson.

Cameron shook her head. She set down the sandwich Wilson had brought her and turned her attention back to the file. She nearly snorted when she saw the alphabetical letters on the file's label. The letters IOU stared back at her. There was no name in sight.

She opened the folder quickly and found a white envelope addressed to "Barbie". She guessed that was her. She flipped open the envelope's top and reached in. She found sixty seven dollars and a key chain with a heart on it. On the inside of the envelope in scrawled handwriting she read, "_I'll be interested in seeing which key you put this with_."

She shook her head. He was an ass.

xXx

"Here," Cameron remarked, marching past House's new ducklings and into his office. She held a twenty dollar bill in her hand.

House didn't miss a beat. "I _know_ it was good Allison, but _really_, I told you there was no need to pay me. I enjoyed it, too."

Cameron set her hands on her hips, trying to look unaffected. "Your tab came to forty seven, not sixty seven," she muttered. "And you don't repay people for favors, so either you've recently become really bad with math or..."

"Or maybe I was paying _you_ for services rendered," he teased.

"Take it," she instructed, setting it down on his desk. She paused and then gave in. "Okay, come on, what's the joke I'm missing?" she demanded.

House looked up at her innocently. "Joke?"

"You're _not _bad at math," Cameron remarked. "So, just get it over with."

House smirked. "I thought _maybe_ you might use the extra money to fix your hair."

"Fix my hair?" she asked, confused. She nodded. "Okay, I'll bite. Continue."

"That's it," House insisted, nodding.

"That's it?" Cameron questioned, unsatisfied. "That doesn't make any sense." She furrowed her brow. "And what's wrong with my hair?"

House shook his head. "Nothing, I suppose if you're dim-witted and lazy and you're name rhymes with lace."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "What are you getting at House?"

"You start dating Chase, your hair turns blonde," he pointed out. "I'm just worried your brain might also be susceptible to this disease. I'd _hate_ to see you've woken up one morning and suddenly lost that brilliant mind and started speaking in an accent that no reasonable human being could ever understand."

Cameron scratched her head in amusement. "You really do amuse yourself, don't you?"

House shrugged. "I liked the brown," he said simply. "That simple."

"It's _never_ simple with you," she remarked. "And you said that you liked the blonde because..."

"It made you look like a hooker," House nodded. "Which it does. But, maybe I don't want you to look like a hooker."

Cameron's eyes challenged his. "Did you call me brilliant?" she grinned, the compliment just registering.

"Brilliant's probably _too_ strong of a word," he muttered.

Cameron grinned. "I'm _not _changing my hair," she said, pushing the twenty closer to him. She was eerily aware of the fact that her statement seemed to encompass all of House's arguments. By saying she was keeping the blonde hair, House would also insinuate that she was staying with Chase.

"Yet," House said playfully, smirking.

"No, I happen to like it this way."

House shrugged, staring at her. "I could get used to it," he admitted.

"Great, well that makes me feel so much better," Cameron rolled her eyes. "I don't care whether you like it or not."

House nodded. "Oh, _you do_."

Cameron sighed. "Keep the twenty," she muttered, pushing her way back into the conference room and past House's team.

xxx

Okay, the next chapter will be up later this week...it's nearly done. However, I feel I must forewarn you...the next chapter is solely, Chase/Cameron...however, it establishes a lot of the doubts Cameron has about Chase. So while I'm sorry in advance, I think it's a piece that needs to be done.

Review!


	8. Define Drawer

Takes place after "The Itch" and thus, after Cameron gives Chase a drawer...I'm sorry that Chase is in this chapter...I really am. But obviously Cameron likes him, at least a little bit, so I cannot ignore him completely. Seriously, I'm sorry, but I think you'll like the ending.

Thanks again for all of the great reviews!!!

xxx

Cameron set her glasses down on the end table, turning to Chase. "Can I ask you a question?"

Chase nodded, looking up from his medical journal.

"Do you like my hair like this?"

Chase grinned, looking at her as if she was crazy. "Of course. You know I do."

She was crazy. She'd decided that much.

"But, I mean, _better_ than before?" she asked. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead. "This isn't some weird relationship trap," she promised. "I was just wondering which you liked better, because for the life of me, I can't seem to decide."

"The blonde," Chase replied. "No contest."

Cameron frowned. "_Really_?" she asked, looking at him like he'd given her the wrong answer. She could tell that inwardly he was squirming.

"Uh..."

Cameron shook her head, flashing him a smile. "Never mind," she insisted, sliding down under the blankets. She laid in silence for a long time.

"Can I ask you a question?" Chase asked, rolling over in order to turn towards her.

Cameron, who had strategically been pretending to be asleep, flipped over to face him. "Okay," she said pleasantly enough, although she was dreading his question. She wasn't up to talking with Chase about anything serious. And the tone in his voice indicated that whatever he was about to bring up was very significant. But, he'd answered her question. She supposed fair was fair.

"Why did you agree to go out with me?"

Cameron supposed couples did this all the time. _When did you know you were in love with me? What compelled you to show up at the exact place where we met? What were you thinking when you first saw me?_ Though an optimist through and through, Cameron was also a realist, molding her into quite a walking contradiction. People who asked questions like this were looking for some forced meaning in their lives. Saying, _I had this sudden urge to get coffee, and there you were, the love of my life, _was an idiotic lie. People met by coincidence or through events they couldn't control. Chase, was not one of these cloudy-eyed types. Chase didn't believe in fate. So when he spoke those words, Cameron knew he was asking her for a real answer. He wanted bare facts.

"I...don't know," was the first response to come to mind. She, of course, knew he wouldn't buy this.

Chase studied her face, which was something he seemed to be doing much more frequently these days. The action unnerved her. She didn't like meeting his eye.

"You _do_ know," he insisted. "I'm just curious."

Which implied that he already had an idea of what the actual answer was, and he was looking for either confirmation or an alternate idea to discredit his theory.

She sighed. "Why?"

Chase raised his eyebrows as if he was surprised by the question. "Why won't you answer?"

Cameron allowed her eyes to slowly linger downwards, away from his face. "Why's it so important?"

He was very patient with her. She respected that much about him. Anyone else would have grown irritated by her avoiding the question. He did know her better than she tended to give him credit for. And he still liked her, which, she thought, was quite astonishing.

"Can I ask another question without you getting angry?"

Cameron's eyes flicked up towards his instantly. "Why would I get angry?" She paused, rethinking her question. "Fine," she agreed. "You can ask." If she wouldn't tell him, she could at least allow him to ask her a question.

"Did it have anything to do with House?" he said, quite innocently enough. "I'm not talking about you wanting to make him jealous," he added quickly, much to Cameron's relief. "I just have been thinking about it a lot lately, and I've been wondering if maybe you just agreed to go out with me, because you realized House wasn't going to ever ask you."

Stick and stones would have been preferred.

She'd severely misjudged him. How horrible could she be? Half of the time she treated Chase with indifference, assuming she knew more about people than he did. She thought she knew him well. She obviously didn't. She hadn't expected he'd ever catch on to her.

"I won't mind," he said, and she could taste the sincerity in his voice. "I just want to know."

Guilt dug at her with unforgiving claws. She stared at Chase sympathetically. She wouldn't lie to him. He didn't deserve any more half-truths.

"Partly," she insisted, searching his eyes for a reaction. He didn't flinch, didn't pull away. "But part of the reason I quit House's team was because he fired you."

It was true. She'd realized she needed a human connection and Chase had been willing. It sounded terrible when she looked at their relationship that way, but wasn't that the basic principle underlying every relationship? A need for something intangible?

"I'm sorry I give you such a hard time about him," Chase said honestly. "It's just hard not to get all crazy when you can be so..."

So what? Heartless? She swallowed.

Inconsiderate? She felt horrible.

Unrequiting?

"...distant."

The word stunned her. Not merely because of the significance of the word, but because, he'd called her on her flaw.

It wasn't him. It really wasn't. None of it was his fault.

He was right. She could be distant. She preached up and down about caring and helping and not being cold, but she was only overcompensating with her patients for what she lacked in her own life.

It went back much farther than her husband dying. It went back years before him. She'd learned how to be her own best friend, how to live inside of herself, how to go through the motions without ever feeling a thing.

It took a rare person to break through a decade's worth of mental blockades. Her husband had done it. House often found weak points. But Chase? He'd barely made a dent.

Not for lack of trying.

There was something wrong with her.

Her eyes glistened slightly as she squinted at him, wanting more than ever to be the person he wanted. _She could always change_. She just didn't know how.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, feeling terrible for uttering the same generic words people always thought to say when they'd done something wrong. She felt her grip on his forearm tighten. She really _was _sorry.

"I know," he said softly, understanding, but still clueless as to how to help her. "I know," he repeated, rubbing her back reassuringly, letting her know that he wasn't about to leave.

The gesture brought her to tears and he held her tightly, but she couldn't be sure if she was crying because he was being so understanding, or because she wished he would get fed up and leave.

But, she _had _given him a drawer...a materialistic reminder that Chase was her boyfriend...that they were in this together. The drawer itself didn't freak her out, but the idea behind it certainly did. She buried her head deeper in his tee shirt, unable to bring herself to ask herself all of the questions that she ought to be asking.

To her, it was just a drawer. To Chase, it was a promise.

A promise she knew she could never keep.

xxx

More soon!!! Review!!!!


	9. The One Where Wilson Catches On

This takes place after JOY TO THE WORLD, while House is leaving PPTH and Cameron is at the Christmas Party...she always buys him a gift, so why should this year be any different? Be warned, there are spoilers at the VERY END of this chapter, so if you haven't seen tonight's episode, A SIMPLE EXPLANATION, or do not want to know about any spoilers in the following episode, do not read!

xxx

Cameron waited until Chase was engaged in conversation with Kutner before sliding out of her seat. She tugged at her white sweater, pressing out the wrinkles caused by sitting down. She finished the remnants of her drink and then skillfully maneuvered her way around the tables to the doorway.

There was something grim about a Christmas party at a hospital. She knew that no amount of years as a doctor would take this eeriness away. It was impossible for her to be fully relaxed and carefree when she knew that all around her, people were dying. Of course, attending was a tradition, and she always stuck closely to traditions. Chase loved the annual Christmas Party as well, and so, she showed up, this year not bothering to change out of her work attire, a white sweater and black slacks. At least it was better than scrubs, she'd told Chase.

She made her way solemnly to her locker room, work still weighing heavily on her mind. She'd lost a nine year old girl today as a result of child abuse. The father was arrested, but the girl was still dead. By now, she would have thought dead children would be nothing to her. She dealt with death every day. But there wasn't something so morbid about the way she died, never deserving her harsh injuries, never even knowing anyone loved her. Perhaps no one had loved her.

It was this girl that kept Cameron's mind off of Christmas. She found herself concentrating on authenticating her laughter whenever Chase told a joke or Kutner impersonated House. She'd wished Foreman had made an appearance. For some reason, she felt like it would have been nice to talk to him about her work stress.

Spinning to her combination with ease, Cameron quickly opened the locker and reached for a small present on the top shelf. She held it loosely, still debating on whether she ought to just return it and be rid of it. It had been sitting in her locker for over a month, and she was tired of shying away from it day after day.

It was just a present, she'd reminded herself. She bought Foreman a present and Wilson too. In fact, she bought them both the same gag gift, a fake cane, in order to make fun of the insinuations that Foreman was just like House, and to just make Wilson laugh. Then she gave Foreman a new edition of a neurology book, which had several case articles published by him, and she'd bought Wilson the entire series of The Office on dvd. Of course, she'd only bought him the collection because he told her he enjoyed the show when he caught it, but more importantly, House hated it. She figured Wilson would find some way to torment House with his gift. She also hung up Foreman's latest article in House's conference room, knowing that it would irritate House. None of the ducklings knew who did this, but she figured that when House didn't take it down, they all assumed it was done by either Cuddy or Foreman himself. She knew that House knew it had been her handiwork. She knew this for certain, because the following day he hung kindergarten-esque drawings that he'd done himself all over her ER nurse's station. She could only shake her head when she saw him later that day, red marker lining his fingertips. He couldn't even _fake_ draw without making a mess.

Cameron couldn't help but realize that even though she'd given Foreman and Wilson Christmas presents, their gifts still linked back to House. She gave them mock canes and then real presents that would irk House. Naturally, the greatest gift she could have given either of the two was to irritate House on their behalf, but still, despite the fun factor, she couldn't even give present without thinking about him.

This was a problem.

And that was precisely why she tossed the light package from hand to hand, debating whether to give it to him or not.

He would know it was from her. He'd know partially because of the package's contents and also because no one else in their right mind would give him a present. Cuddy might perhaps give him a bonus check, and Wilson and House might exchange presents outside of work, but no one else would willingly buy him a thing. Willingly was stressed, because she knew all about his Secret Santa debacle. She also knew that House had rigged the gift exchange for more than just fun. He wanted to know if anyone on his team would get him a gift he'd actually like, something that proved they knew something about him. Turned out, he was right. None of his new fellows had a clue what to buy for him. He walked away as mysterious and unscathed as ever, elated that he'd proven his mystery to a fault.

But, Cameron knew better. She could have bought House a gift with sentimental meaning. She could have picked out something that would trigger a memory from his past to prove how well she knew him. But, House would hate this. He would also want to know why Cameron took buying him a present so seriously. So, anything with sentimental face value was out of the question.

She could buy him something generic, like the other fellows had done, but she saw no real motive in doing so. House wasn't generic. You couldn't buy him a tie or a watch and feel satisfied with your choice. Or at least, she couldn't.

So, she went with childish...childish with a hint of sentiment, but definitely an item he would get a lot of use out of. All in all, it was the perfect gift. It had also only cost fifty dollars, an amount of money he could neither complain about or mock her for spending. It wasn't too expensive, but it wasn't too cheap. There was not a thing wrong with her gift and House wouldn't be able to tease her about it in the slightest. She smiled. Her insight into House's mind astounded her sometimes.

Slamming the locker shut, she gripped the gift and set off towards House's office. She wasn't going to return it. She wasn't even going to allow herself to feel guilty about buying it. She had wanted to buy him a gift and she did. It was that simple.

Gaining stride with her increased confidence that she'd made the right decision, she quickly caught the elevator and moments later found herself on House's floor.

She found the office door locked, but quickly pulled out a key from her purse. As soon as she stepped foot into the office she heard footsteps behind her.

"I have to change all of my locks, now don't I?"

Cameron suppressed a grin as she spun around. "I thought you left."

"Breaking and entering?" House asked, twirling his cane to mimic his amusement. "That's a felony."

"You gave me a key," she remarked, dangling it in front of him. "It's not my fault Cuddy never asked for it back."

"Well, don't _give_ it to her," House remarked, pushing past her as he made his way to his chair. "Locking the door is the only way to keep her out. If you go and give her a copy, well..."

"Why are you back here?" Cameron asked, interrupting him.

"A nurse from cardiology meets me here every Thursday night at eight," he grinned.

Cameron raised an eyebrow. "No nurse in this hospital would ever voluntarily have anything to do with you." She paused. "And it's eight thirty."

House shrugged. "So it is. The better question is, why are _you_ in here." His eyes slipped down to the package in her hands.

Cameron sighed. "You weren't supposed to be here when I dropped it off," she insisted, dropping the gift lazily onto his desk.

House shook the present vigorously. "Feels like a book," he noted with disappointment. He eyed Cameron curiously. "Or maybe your diary? Complete with dirty dreams about me?"

Years ago this statement would have made her blush. Now, it just made her clench her jaw even more tightly. "You'd be so lucky to make a guest appearance in any of my dreams," she grinned.

House ignored her. "I understand why you bought me presents when you were working for me and quite obviously trying to get in my pants..."

Cameron laughed. "Please, if I wanted to get in your pants, I wouldn't so much as have to pull them down," she insisted.

House considered this. "True," he admitted. "But why now? You don't work for me. You keep making a point of telling everyone that you're not in love with me...so..."

"Because I wanted to," Cameron remarked, crossing her arms to indicate that she wasn't about to confess anything more to him.

"That simple?"

"That simple."

House smirked. "I'm not getting you anything, if that's what you're after."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "The day you buy me a present is the day I drop dead."

"Least I know how to get rid of you," House mused, shrugging.

Cameron turned to leave.

"What, you're not going to watch me open it?" he asked, shooting her a mocking look.

"Merry Christmas House," she replied softly, not looking back as she stepped through his office doorway.

xxx

"You could have just bought him a box of chocolates with the words, 'I love you' stamped all over them," Wilson chided, bumping into Cameron just outside of the elevator.

Cameron shot him an agitated look as they stepped inside.

Wilson laughed. "What floor?"

"Five," Cameron snapped as Wilson pressed the round button. She waited a good thirty seconds before turning to Wilson. "It's not like I bought him Vicodin," she remarked. "That would be showing him that I really care."

Wilson chuckled. "Oh please, you may think you fooled him, but you didn't fool me. A monster truck game for his gameboy? Please."

"Yes," Cameron remarked sarcastically. "Because nothing says romance like giant trucks attacking one another." She stepped harshly out of the elevator shaft as soon as the door opened. "Why do you care anyway?"

Wilson shrugged. "It's just interesting..."

"You don't care about interesting," she challenged. "House does."

"Well, then maybe House is the one who is interested in your motives," Wilson offered.

Cameron shook her head. "And he sent _you_ to do his dirty work?" She grinned. "Not buying it."

Wilson didn't respond, causing Cameron to stop walking. She pulled him down a rather empty corridor.

"Look," she began. "If you don't want to tell me why you're so intrigued by this, then fine. But I still don't see how a game can be construed as a romantic emblem of love."

Wilson smiled. "It's not the game, Allison. It's the meaning behind the game."

Cameron stared at him blankly. "I don't play video games, so if there's some significance behind..."

"Oh, come on, and admit it," Wilson remarked. "You bought it because one, you _knew_ he would like it, particularly that he would like it better than anything his fellows had gotten him, and he would be able to rave about it in front of them. But, more importantly, you knew that since this game was from _you_, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from remembering that time the two of you went on your little date to this monster truck show."

"Yes," Cameron remarked, playing along. "And _then_ he would remember how you cancelled on him and realize what a terrible friend you are, and I'd be able to win the _oh so coveted_ spot as his number two." She rolled her eyes. "Give me a break Wilson. He likes monster trucks. He likes his stupid gameboy. Any moron could put two and two together. In fact, all in all, it's a rather thoughtless gift."

Wilson wagged his finger at her. "Which is _exactly_ why you could get away with it," he insisted.

Cameron froze slightly, but recovered quickly, interested in the rest of his theory. "Go on," she remarked, hands shoved anxiously into her lab coat pockets.

"It _appears_ to be a seemingly innocent and altogether thoughtless gift, but you _knew _House would think into it, because it's from you and because he thinks into everything. So on some level, you _wanted_ him to think into it, otherwise, you would have never gotten it. And, on the flip side, if anyone ever finds out that the game's from you, they'll think nothing of it, because after all, it's only a video game."

Cameron nodded. "A video game that signifies my undying love for House," she repeated, dubiously. She grinned, patting Wilson on the arm. "You've been watching too many episodes of _Grey's Anatomy_."

With one last incredulous look, Cameron walked away from Wilson, a hidden smile suddenly emerging on her face. Of course Wilson would have been the one to figure it out.

xxx

"Luce go home, you've been here all day," Cameron ordered, as she set a stack of files on top of the nurses' station in the ER.

Lucy, the head nurse, looked up at her in exhaustion. "Can't. Short staffed as usual," she explained. "Gotta get this paperwork done."

Cameron shook her head. "Fine, but if you're not out of here in the next hour, I'm going to make Kelly help you."

Lucy grinned, grateful for the joke. Kelly was the obnoxious blonde nurse who could have played a Pamela Anderson stunt double. Of course, she was barely twenty three, which made the nurses hate her even more. It wasn't just her looks that bothered the other nurses; it was her know-it-all attitude. She was relentless, but unfortunately, usually wrong. Cameron knew Kelly's days at PPTH were numbered. Cuddy was just looking for a reason to fire her.

"That reminds me," Lucy replied, ushering to a vase of white lilies. "These damn flowers have gone to Kelly's head. Apparently she thinks they're from Dr. Wilson. Her ego couldn't be more inflamed."

Cameron shook her head. "Wilson would _not_ send Kelly flowers. Why would she think they're from him?"

Lucy shrugged. "The note is completely ambiguous, but she _swears_ they're from him. Apparently they're her favorite flower and she just happened to let it slip to Dr. Wilson in the caferteria line last night."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "How romantic," she remarked sarcastically. "Last week roses were her favorite flower." Kelly was always getting flowers delivered to her. The nurses had a pool running that she sent them to herself in order to make her appear more desirable.

Lucy grabbed the top file from the stack Cameron had brought over. "She's warped," she insisted.

Curious, Cameron snatched the note attached to the flowers."They don't even have her name on it," she insisted.

"I told you, she's deluded," Lucy remarked.

Shaking her head, Cameron flipped the card open. _Merry Christmas_ was embedded in the thick paper. Five words written in marker filled up the entire empty space. Her eyes widened as she read them.

_**Can't prove they're from me.**_

Cameron set the note back down, stepping away from Lucy without another word. She knew that handwriting. She knew that handwriting cold. And who else would write in marker? Who else carried a marker around with him?

Of course, by confronting him, she'd be letting him win. He'd be ecstatic to find out that she had remembered his handwriting, that she'd connected all of the dots. She'd become the suspicious one, and he'd want to know why she was so sure they were from him. She could play out the entire disastrous conversation in her head and she knew, she'd end up looking like the fool.

He'd won again.

But as she rounded the corner to his office, convincing herself that she might as well turn around, the sight of Wilson leaving his office hit her. The plan barely registered before she found herself stopping in front of House's conference room, waiting for Wilson. She felt the weight of House's stare through the thin glass, and knew he'd be watching to see what she did next.

She locked eyes with Wilson, hoping that he would follow her lead. Though he had no idea what she was doing, his eyes seemed to register that she was up to something, and he was about to be a pawn in her little game.

She smiled, reaching up to hug him. He returned the hug in delay, still perplexed. When she kissed his cheek, she heard the soft clinking of something through the other side of the glass. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that House's marker had dropped to the ground.

She pulled away, still smiling, and though Wilson's eyes looked confused, his face remained emotionless.

"Thanks for the flowers," she grinned, knowing House could hear her.

As she turned and walked away, she heard Wilson laugh, having obviously pieced her puzzle together. Unable to resist, she paused and looked over her shoulder to see Wilson shaking his head at House, and House watching her curiously. Foreman wasn't paying House a bit of mind, but the other fellows looked from her to Wilson, baffled.

She smiled smugly as she walked away. House was going to have to step up his game if he expected to catch her off guard ever again.

xxx

Okay, short chapter...the next one will also be semi-short before we get into the good stuff. After this week's episode, I cannot wait to write out the rest of the season. Kutner's death was extremely tragic, but the scenes for next week? Amazing...although I'm certain that Cameron will not admit she loves House, even if she still does. Sigh. We Hamerons will never win will we? *braces for Huddy sex and the utter unraveling of any hope of H/C*


	10. Guilt Doesn't Go With Manolo Blahniks

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed this story...and a special thanks to reoccurring reviewers, iyimgrace, AllyCameron, SweetM05, Danielle Lynn, and especially to sillym3 for all of the amazing support. I plan to keep this going as long as possible, but will probably end this story at the season's end. However, that's not saying I won't write anything new, because I will!

Okay, this takes place at the end of Big Baby, after Cameron declines Cuddy's job offer.

xxx

"Are the rumors true?" Cameron grinned, hopping down the steps of PPTH. House stood alone in the dark near his bike.

"This better involve nudity," he remarked, leaning against his bike and folding his arms.

"_You_ held a baby?" Cameron teased, strutting over to him.

House rolled his eyes. "Oh, _those_ rumors. I was thinking more along the lines of the news that you're too scared of me to be my boss." He shot her a self-satisfied smile.

Cameron's eyes widened, challenging him. "Right. I'm scared of _you_." She shook her head. "I'm not scared of you. I would have been getting paid to disagree with you," she reminded him.

House nodded. "Right, and there's the problem. You _love_ agreeing with me." Cameron rolled her eyes. "No, it's true," House continued. "You like agreeing with me and being a part of my team, _not_ playing for the other team...unless of course, you do like both teams in which case you should really spend some more time with Thirteen and..." He trailed off, snapping out of whatever daydream he'd become tangled in. "I'm officially lost in my own metaphor," he confessed.

Cameron barely suppressed her laughter, grinning madly. "It's just too much pressure. Too much work," she lied. _Badly_.

House smirked. "Right. _Too much pressure_. This coming from the girl who used to solve medical mysteries in hours. Please. And _too much work_? You used to sort through my mail, chart my files, and somehow in your spare time you still found it in you to get articles published. I don't think it's possible for you to _stop_ working."

Cameron conceded with a grin. "If you already know why I quit, then why even bother talking to me about it?"

"Oh come on, you know I live for these little interludes," House smirked. "Besides, it's so much more entertaining in the end when you admit I was right all along and I get to go home with a smile on my face."

Cameron winced.

"Was the part about the smile pushing it too far?" he asked.

"A little," Cameron nodded, then laughed. "I just didn't like being in charge of that many doctors," she replied firmly. "It was too hard to keep up with...too many chances of making a mistake."

House pretended to fall asleep, then after a moment, popped one eye open. "Wake me up when you decide to start telling the truth," he snarked, closing his lid once more.

Cameron narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she began breathlessly. "The truth is that I'm in love with you and I realized that while being in charge of you is a fantasy come true, I can't handle the torment of seeing you every day, knowing that..."

House opened his eyes, bored of her dramatics. "Try again!" he remarked, enthusiastically. "Of course, if you'd care to elaborate on this fantasy, by all means, continue."

Cameron grinned. "You know, actually, I can't remember if it was a fantasy about you or Wilson..." she shook her head, then shrugged. "It doesn't really matter I guess. You two are pretty interchangeable."

House pondered the possibilities of her statement for a moment. "Right," he remarked, coming back to reality. "Real reason. Go. Or I'll ask Cuddy and embarrass you."

"Cuddy doesn't know the real reason," Cameron insisted.

House studied her face. "Okay," he began. "I'll play. The real reason you quit is because you realized that you were ultimately in a position to take responsibility for all of my actions. And while you loved to play my game when I was your boss, the game suddenly changed when you realized you'd be in charge of me. No matter how much you agreed or disagreed with me, in the end, the patient's fate would be on you. And that much guilt does not go well with the Manolo Blahnik shoes you're rocking."

Cameron blinked. "They're not Manolo Blahniks," she said simply.

"Am I right or am I right?"

Cameron shrugged. "You have to be right," she stated. "You're _House_. You couldn't live with knowing you were wrong. So, sure. You're right."

House furrowed his brow as Cameron started to walk away. "Hey wait a minute," he began, catching up with her. "Is that your way of taking my moment of glory away from me, or was there really another reason?"

Cameron met his gaze. He was like a five year old who needed to know why and how come about everything. He'd just never grown out of the stage. He had most of it right. That was close enough. All she had to do was sell it.

"House," she began. "I barely made it out of your fellowship alive. But, being your boss..." she paused, smiling as she stepped closer. "It would just never work out between us," she insisted, whispering quietly in his ear.

"It's a pity!" House called after her as she approached her car. "I was really looking forward to seeing you in full Cuddy ensemble!"

Cameron fought the urge to turn around and indulge him. He'd never be able to end a conversation on a serious note. It would weigh heavily on his conscious and the guilt he'd endure from portraying himself as an actual human being would hurt him more than a life without pills ever could.

She climbed into the car. She'd let him have his stupid win.

At the rate she was going, he needed to catch up anyway.

xxx

Cameron was disoriented when she heard the door open. She squinted through the darkness, making out the vague image of the television flashing silently. She squirmed out of the blanket encasing her and stretched vigorously. She rested her chin on the back of the couch once she'd finished, blonde hair lazily falling slowly around her.

"Where were you?" Cameron asked sleepily. She remembered falling asleep around eleven and now it was nearly two. Her question was one of genuine interest, not accusation. There was never any suspicion in her mind when it came to Chase.

He groaned setting his bag with his scrubs down. "Surgery ran late," he explained quickly, before looking back up, a curious gleam in his eye. "Oh, and House got drunk at some bar near the hospital. Stumbled into the locker room as I was leaving and proceeded to shower with all of his clothes on."

Cameron tilted her head. "Seriously?"

Chase nodded. "He was singing the _Happy Days_ theme song. Guy needs help."

Cameron shrugged. "He's just depressed."

"Right," Chase replied, tone of voice clearly indicating that he didn't agree with her simple hypothesis of House. "Before you attack me with questions, _yes_ I drove him home, and _yes_ you owe me for the price of new upholstery in my car."

"New upholstery?" Cameron questioned.

"Water damage," Chase said simply.

Cameron grinned, scooting over as Chase joined her on the couch.

"Wait," she said suddenly, still a bit drowsy. "Why do _I _owe you?"

Chase shrugged. "If I had left him there, my car would be fine. However, you would have chastised me until I ruined my car myself just to make you feel better."

"Oh, right, the only reason you took him home was to make me happy," Cameron laughed. "That makes sense."

"Are you telling me you wouldn't have been mad if I left him there?"

Cameron shot him a look. "Of course I would have been mad. But, I would have been more confused than angry, because it would be strangely out of character for you to leave House drunk in the locker room."

Chase cocked an eyebrow. "The man spent three years humiliating me for a living, punched me in the face, blamed me for his incorrect diagnoses, insulted my accent every spare chance he got, and he fired me for being right." He paused. "Am I forgetting anything?"

Cameron pondered. "There was that one time he filled in your entire crossword book with dirty words. That was pretty funny. And kind of scary, seeing as how they all fit..."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Fine. I wouldn't have left him there."

"Aw, you _do_ want his approval," Cameron teased.

"I do not."

"Sure," she grinned, rubbing his knee. "Keep telling yourself that."

"The man is severely unhinged."

"And you admire him," Cameron teased. "What does that say about you?"

"I don't..." he paused, eyeing her strangely. "Hey, you're the one who was in love with him for..."

"I _wasn't_ in love with him," Cameron remarked, weary of having to always take this same defense in every argument. Chase looked like he might begin to say something serious, so she decided it was best to interrupt. "I did however, totally have a thing for Foreman."

Chase flinched.

"That was a joke!" Cameron replied quickly, slapping him lightly on the arm. She grinned. "Wow, you totally believed that just now, didn't you? For like a minute!"

"I did not," Chase grinned, kissing her lightly on the lips. "I had a thing for Foreman too," he whispered, causing her to pull back out of shock.

"Now who's unhinged?" Cameron teased, regaining her composure.

Chase grinned, pulling back. "How come you're out here?" he asked. "You didn't have to wait up for me. You're obviously exhausted."

Cameron shrugged. She hadn't been waiting up for him. She just felt weird going into his bedroom without him. It was_ his_. "Just fell asleep watching tv," she replied, smiling.

Chase stood up suddenly. "Okay, I told him five minutes," he began.

Cameron's face scrunched in confusion. "Told who what?" she asked, thinking she was hearing things since she still wasn't quite awake.

"Uh," Chase began, eyeing the door nervously. "House didn't have his house keys with him. Must have left them at the bar. So, I told him that he could stay here and I'd drive him back in the morning."

Cameron shook her head. He'd never left his keys at the bar, prior to the night she'd picked him up. "I'm beginning to think he's doing this on purpose," she muttered.

"What?" Chase asked, leaning in to her.

"Uh, nothing," Cameron replied, standing up. "Just said that it's hard to be mad at him when I know he didn't do this on purpose."

Chase nodded. "We can stay at your place if you want. I just..."

Cameron shook her head, and Chase left the living room, presumably to get House. Once again, he'd set her up. If she wanted him to leave, which she very much did, she'd have to confess to Chase that she had a key to House's apartment. House knew she would never do that, so his stay at Chase's place was sealed. And she knew he was just doing all of it to make her uncomfortable.

But Cameron no longer thought in black and white, as House believed she did. She quickly realized her third option, an option that would not only get House out of Chase's apartment, but ensure House's annoyance as well.

Grinning, she reached for the phone and explained her plan to the person on the other end. "Remember you owe me," she remarked, and as expected, he agreed.

House was beaming with delight and intoxication as Chase helped House into the apartment.

"Do you want to fix up the couch while I get him some dry clothes?" Chase asked.

Cameron shook her head, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. "No need," she said, grinning. House looked momentarily taken aback and Chase just looked perplexed. "I called Wilson," she went on, grinning at House. "I mean, I was _so_ worried about you sleeping on a couch with your bad leg. I knew it would only irritate the pain." She couldn't stop her smile from spreading. "And, I assumed Wilson would have a key to your place and it turns out that he does." She smirked. "He'll be here in five minutes...ten tops."

Chase nodded. "Crisis averted," he joked, grinning. "I should still probably get him something to wear."

"Nothing with koala bears on it," House muttered, returning to his usual cheerful self. "And if you give me a thong, it had better be Cameron's."

Chase rolled his eyes as he left the room to sort through his belongings.

"Well played," House whispered. "Guess that means we're tied."

Cameron shook her head. "By my calculations, I'm winning," she grinned.

"Good thing you didn't become a mathematician," House smirked. "Of course, you didn't _really_ think I'd sleep on a couch just to make you miserable, did you?"

Cameron shot him a dubious look. "You've slept on your office floor."

"I was on drugs."

"You're _still_ on drugs," she reminded him.

House grinned as Chase came back out, tossing a pile of clothes at him. House held up the pink polo he had been given and grimaced.

"Thought pink was your color," Chase grinned, as House ambled past him towards the bathroom. "Brings out your rosy cheeks."

Cameron laughed.

House spun around en route to the bathroom. "You two are _perfect_ for each other," he remarked, eyes flashing to Cameron, whose expression transformed from amusement to shock.

Chase smiled, taking his joke as a compliment, or at least, the closest thing to a compliment he'd ever get from House.

But Cameron knew better. House had picked his words carefully in the hope that Cameron would be upset by his thinking Chase was perfect for her.

And he was right. He'd gotten the reaction he had hoped for.

And just like that, they were tied again...yet Cameron felt eerily certain that he'd taken back the upper hand in their game.

xxx

Denial denial denial. We're all in denial.

But it's okay, I'll update soon for your Hameron fix.

Review!!!


	11. Baby Steps

Takes place after whatever that episode is where Thirteen comes to Cameron/Chase for relationship advice. Yes, I'm too depressed by tonight's latest episode to look for the actual title. Spoilers again at the end, because I wanted to rant a bit.

Sorry for the slight bit of Chameron at the end. We WILL go back to Hameron in the next chapter...but don't blame me for keeping this accurate...blame the writers.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!

xxx

"Aren't you supposed to be real big on this whole love thing?" Thirteen asked, looking agitated and weary as she interrupted Cameron's break in the doctor's lounge.

"Depends on who you ask," Cameron insisted, eyes still stuck in a book.

"Yeah, like there's one person in this hospital who hates you," Thirteen muttered.

Cameron reluctantly closed her book and looked up. "Seems like there may be one person," she replied accusingly. She raised an eyebrow.

Thirteen crossed her arms, determined to remain collected, as always. "Why did you tell me to break up with Foreman?"

"To save you from a lot of bickering, annoyances, and most of all, from House's interference in your relationship."

Thirteen nodded. "Well, great. We broke up."

Cameron laughed. "Yeah, sure you did."

"We did," Thirteen insisted.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "_I know love_, right?" she repeated. "This is one of the worst fake breakups I've ever seen."

Thirteen caved. "Taub and Kutner bought it."

"Taub's an emotional idiot and it's doubtful that Kutner cares either way," Cameron remarked. "Big deal."

"So you don't think that House..."

"Not a chance," Cameron replied. "But he's obviously not going to do anything about your relationship, so I think you're fine."

Thirteen nodded. "But you still think our relationship is a mistake?" she asked slowly.

Cameron wasn't sure what to make of Thirteen's question. Thirteen didn't usually care for the advice of others. She was rarely emotional, so for her to be so worked up and open told Cameron that she must care about Foreman enough to not worry about making a fool out of herself.

"Yes," Cameron said at last.

Thirteen looked ready to strangle her.

"It's not personal," Cameron tried to explain. "In fact, if you two didn't work side by side, I'd say it was fine. But I've been there and..."

"And look at you now," Thirteen remarked.

Cameron sighed. Hadn't they already had this argument?

"Chase and I didn't technically get together until after he was fired," Cameron clarified. "I'm not worried about Foreman...and he's a good guy...it's just that it's hard to be in a relationship with someone you work with. Your work will suffer, your relationship will suffer, and the people around you will..."

"I'm professional," Thirteen insisted.

Cameron pursed her lips. She wasn't understanding any of this. "Look, if you have a bad day, Foreman's bound to make it worse. If you two have a fight at home, you will bring it to work, whether or not you agree not to. He'll be around you all the time. Your work life and your private life will no longer be separate." She paused. "It may not sound like a problem, but it will be...at some point."

Thirteen unclenched her arms. "It's a problem for you."

It wasn't a question.

Cameron shrugged. "Sometimes."

"But I..."

"Look, this isn't about me," Cameron interjected. "You asked for my advice the other day, so I gave it to you. My stance hasn't changed, but that doesn't mean that I'm not hoping it will work out for you. Like I said, it's not personal."

Thirteen nodded, finally grasping Cameron's standpoint. "Thanks," she said lightly, leaving without so much as a goodbye.

Cameron sank back into her book, rereading the same sentence three times over before realizing she was too anxious to relax again.

xxx

"Why didn't you go?" Cameron asked, as House bit heartily into his sandwich.

"How did you find me?" House asked, voice muffled from chewing. He sat lazily in Wilson's chair, legs propped up onto his desk.

"Oh you're easy to find," Cameron insisted. "You leave a scent behind...smells incredibly like guilt and arrogance."

"Really? Because I was going for tortured yet irresistible," House mocked. "I'll have to return that bottle of AXE in the morning."

"Still didn't answer my question," Cameron noted, sitting down across from him.

"I don't remember it," House lied.

"Cuddy's ceremony," Cameron replied. "For Rachel."

"Rachel?" House sneered. "Is _that_ what they're calling it?"

Cameron crossed her arms. "It meant a lot to Cuddy."

"And since when do you care about Cuddy?"

"I care about _everybody_ remember," Cameron taunted, then sunk back into seriousness. "Apparently, I'm fluid in the language of love."

"Sounds vaguely like karma sutra," House jabbed, smirking.

"Deflecting," Cameron remarked in a sing song voice.

House polished off the rest of his sandwich, swinging his legs back down to the ground. "I had plans."

"With a hooker?"

"Legitimate excuse."

"That's a load of crap."

"My piano and I..."

"Oh please..."

"My tivo had..."

"If you mention your bottle of scotch next, I'm dropping your cane off the balcony," Cameron warned him.

House snatched his cane quickly from the top of the desk. "You know, you never used to be so malicious," he told her, grinning slightly. "I like it."

Cameron ignored him, holding his stare.

House sighed. "Cuddy didn't want me there."

"She _did _want you there," Cameron insisted. "She came to me and..."

"Oh fine, I'm a jerk," House muttered. "Surprised?"

"Kind of," Cameron remarked.

"Now that's the Cameron I know...the one who is repeatedly horrified and shocked when people act human," House remarked.

"You _like_ her," Cameron concluded.

"Are you my therapist?" House asked. "Because I'll pay you to go away."

"You do, don't you?"

"I don't like Cuddy," House said solemnly, and for a minute Cameron almost believed him. "And before you get all sentimental on me, I don't like _you_ either."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "That's been clear since day one," she replied tiredly. "I just came here to suggest that you apologize to Cuddy. Just tell her that you didn't think..."

"Why are you so interested in this?"

Cameron shrugged, slightly caught off guard by House's question. "I'm not. I just..."

"Interesting," House interrupted with a slight grin.

"What?" Cameron asked, bracing for the worst.

"It's just funny how eager you are to play matchmaker with me and Cuddy when just last week you were trying to tear Foreman and Thirteen apart..."

"How did you..."

"Oh. I know _everything_," House remarked.

"I was just warning them," Cameron insisted. "And I'm _not _playing matchmaker," she remarked, as if the very idea disgusted her.

"So you don't want me to jump her bones?"

"No!" Cameron remarked, appalled. "I mean...I want you to _jump her bones_ if you want to jump her bones, but not because I wanted you to jump her..." She stopped, embarrassed. "How do you always manage to turn a simple discussion into a ridiculous argument?"

"I bet Wilson fifty bucks that I could make you say _jump her bones_," House replied simply.

"I don't doubt it," Cameron muttered.

"Are you going to tell me where this sudden interest in Cuddy's well being came from?"

"Are you going to apologize?"

"I have nothing to apologize for."

Cameron rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Fine. Be impossible," she remarked, marching out of his office.

She knew how House's neglect could sting, so she knew how Cuddy must be feeling. She turned back, catching one last glimpse of a sullen looking House before she disappeared around the corner. Hopefully Cuddy had tougher skin than she once did.

xxx

"I trust you," Cameron said, pushing through the door to Chase's apartment.

Chase shut the refrigerator door, bottle of beer in his hand. "Um, and I trust you?" he said, not understanding whatever game they were playing.

Cameron smiled. "I just thought you should know," Cameron replied, walking into the kitchen. She folded her arms across her chest delicately.

"Any particular reason you felt the need to rush in here and say those three words?" Chase questioned, still waiting for the shoe to drop.

Cameron shrugged. "You said it," she replied quickly. "I just realized that we hadn't said _those_ three words before and I wanted to be the first to say them." Her eyebrow remained poised, feeling out his expression before she opened the fridge and grabbed a beer for herself.

"Oh," Chase said quietly, but not quite sadly grasping her meaning.

Cameron leaned against the fridge, eyes searching him. "It's a good thing," she insisted.

"But Cameron, I already know that I..."

"Stop," she insisted, shaking her head. _Don't say you love me_, she warned him. "I want to be the one to say it," she remarked. "First. I want to say it first."

Chase furrowed his brow.

Cameron sighed. "It's not that I _don't_," she began, in a rushed attempt to explain her reasoning. "I just can't say it...yet. But that doesn't mean that I won't. I just...I'm not ready."

Chase nodded. "I never pressured you to..."

"I know," Cameron said, nodding slowly. "But I just thought you should know that one day, I _will_ be ready to say it, but until then..."

"I can't say it."

Cameron nodded. "I know. It's really unfair of me."

Chase stepped closer to her. "It's not so unfair," he insisted, although she knew he was lying. "At least, you're talking to me about it."

Cameron nodded. Her eyes flicked upward to his. "I also wanted you to know that I never cheated on you with House," she began slowly. "That's what you were getting at when you asked if I slept with him...right?"

Her words hung heavily in the air. Chase already knew Cameron had never cheated on him. Cameron could never cheat on anyone. And Cameron knew he wanted to know if she had _ever_ slept with House. She knew his question meant, _did she ever sleep with House before they were together_.

"Right," he said softly, kissing her firmly. He pulled back, checking her expression. Perhaps he'd never know all of her mysteries, but at least now, he knew she was trying.

Baby steps, she told herself.

xxx

Tonight is the night that all Hameron fans died of 1. disgust 2. shock 3. unbridled and unyielding anger. One question fills my head...why?!!?!?!?!

I was bracing for the break-up, and nearly punched my lamp in excitement when it happened, and then came that damn ending scene. And do you know what I hated most of all? The fact that I half-squealed when I saw how happy Cameron was once he proposed. So weird. It was like for a split second I betrayed my Hameron roots. I'm deeply ashamed.

Guess I'll be incorporating that into this story. But don't worry, I already know how this House/Cameron thing will end and it will not disappoint you. But it will be bittersweet.

And I DID _love_ tonight's episode. I really did. It was just the locker room scene with threw me, but I suppose any Cameron is better than no Cameron at all. Even if it's...dare I say it...Chameron? I'm sorry, I apologize.

Blame the writers, not me.

Okay, I'm done ranting.

R.I.P. Kutner and R.I.P. "Hameron". And welcome back Cut Throat Bitch. You were missed.

*sigh*


	12. Wait, No! Still Damaged

This takes place during the same episode as the last chapter, just a little further on, specifically after Cuddy and Wilson realize House is taking methadone and House loses his job...

House did not come to the conclusion that he was less of a doctor while on the methadone...at least not on his own. Someone gave him a push in the right direction...

And luckily, Cameron was NOT featured in the next three episodes of House, giving me free reign to make her do as I please...

xxx

Wilson was an idiot. That was the only rational explanation that Cameron could make out of all of this. She tapped her foot incessantly as she waited outside of that familiar door that held nothing but controversial memories for her. She knocked again, for the fifth time.

"House!" she yelled. "I know you can hear me!"

She heard faint shuffling sounds and concluded that he must have walked to the door, but was still hesitant to open.

"If it helps, Cuddy doesn't know I'm here," she offered.

Apparently, it didn't.

"Cuddy must have told you about the methadone, otherwise you wouldn't be here. And you're not as naive as you used to be Cameron. If Cuddy told you, it's because she knew you would come here. So now that you know you're a pawn in her evil plan, why don't you go on home to..."

"Cuddy didn't tell me," Cameron insisted, jiggling the handle. "House you're twice my size, I promise you can take me," she teased. "Now open up."

Her humor seemed to take the edge off of his defensiveness. "Wilson," he said knowingly as he let Cameron inside. "He told you, knowing full well you'd come marching over here, all pouting and whiny and annoy me into agreeing to give up the drugs."

Cameron's eyes narrowed, making sure he knew she wasn't amused by his antics. She eyed his leg. "No cane?" she asked.

"Wilson didn't tell you that?" House asked in an exaggerated tone. "You two are getting to be regular pen pals now."

Cameron ignored him. "The only reason I'm here is because Wilson_ asked _me to come by and talk to you," she said bluntly.

"Meaning you really don't want to be here," House nodded. "Well, you came, we talked, now hurry back to your room full of four year old boys with marbles up their noses."

"He doesn't want you to leave," Cameron remarked. "In fact, he's even okay with the drug. He just doesn't want you to..."

"Take it up with Cuddy," House replied, clearly annoyed. "This is all in her hands."

"Hmm," Cameron began, studying House's face slowly. "You don't _seem_ any nicer."

House rolled his eyes. "Oh wait a minute. Did Thirteen tell you I was acting differently, and you rushed over here to see if it was true?"

Cameron laughed. "No, I'd never believe it was true," she added. "Although it _is_ interesting that you haven't done anything about Foreman and Thirteen pretending to break up."

House frowned. "I don't have time to play matchmaker," he scowled. "If they want to ruin their own lives, let them. Besides, when Thirteen's happy, she wears considerably less clothing."

"You okayed an MRI to appease the boy's parents?" Cameron questioned. "You agreed to wasting time in order to..."

"Oh, what do you have my whole team on speed dial?" House grumbled, walking into the kitchen.

"They're concerned," Cameron insisted, following him. "They're worried that..."

"Foreman's a good doctor, you know that," House insisted. "He'll run the diagnostic team and I'll go somewhere else. I already told you that it's out of my hands."

Cameron nodded. "Are you really not in pain?" she asked curiously.

House shook his head. "Care to dance?" he joked.

Cameron mused this discovery. "It's just very out of character for you to..." she stopped, deciding to end it there. She crossed her arms. "Well, okay...if you need a letter of recommendation or anything..." she remarked, heading back towards the front door.

"Wait a second," House began, this time following her. "What do you mean, _out of character_?"

Cameron grinned, her back to House. She knew that that would work. She composed her face and turned around solemnly. "It's great that you're out of pain," she nodded. "It's all anyone with your condition could ever hope for."

"But?" House prompted her.

"But," Cameron began. "You're not like most people..."

House snickered. "Is this going to be a speech about how everyone is _special_ in their own precious way?"

"Most people would be satisfied with the lack of pain and decide that nothing was more important than that feeling," Cameron went on, not budging. "But, most people aren't brilliant doctors who've spent their whole lives building up their reputation."

"Go on, I'm intrigued," House replied, yawning dramatically.

"Never mind," Cameron began, shaking her head.

House groaned. "I'm obviously interested in whatever crazy notion you have in that pretty little head of yours," he admitted reluctantly.

Cameron smirked. "You're giving up the most important thing in the world to you in order to live peacefully?" she questioned. She shrugged. "Most people, well, I'd understand them doing so, but _you_? I guess, I just don't get it."

House looked slightly shocked by her words, but he quickly regained his usual lackluster expression. "That's it?" he asked, pretending to be unimpressed. "You wasted fifteen minutes of my time to tell me _that_? How thoroughly disappointing."

"Goodbye House," Cameron remarked, opening the door. "Oh, and in case you're at all interested, the patient's dying. There's nothing _we_ can do." She made a point to emphasize the "we". If he thought she believed he could figure out a way to say the little boy's life, he'd be forced to look for a solution. She knew how his mind worked.

She shut the door quietly behind her, walking back out to her car. She stared blankly at his apartment for several minutes before shifting the car into drive. She didn't know if she'd done what she set out to do, but she hoped she'd at least conjured a bit of doubt in House's faith in his methadone. She wasn't sure that a hospital without House was one she wanted to work in.

xXx

Cameron pulled open her front door, expecting Chase. He was a little early for their date, but that wasn't entirely unlike him. He tried to sneak out of work as quickly as possible, and recently he'd been spending more time at her apartment.

"Come on," House grinned, reveling in her look of surprise. "Admit it, it's fun."

"What's fun?" she asked, genuinely baffled.

"Being right," he nodded, letting himself into her living room. She started to protest, knowing Chase would be there any minute, but in the confusion of the unexpected visit, she merely shut the door.

She shot him a perplexed look.

"Oh," he muttered, faking a wounded look. "Don't play Bambi with me. Come on, say it. You knew that I wouldn't be able to risk my fantastic reputation in order to get rid of a little bit of pain."

She grinned. "You're not leaving?"

"Don't hug me," he ordered, thrashing his cane in between them to stop her in case she made any sudden movements.

Cameron eyed him comically. "Now _you_ need protection from _me_?"

He nodded. "Knowledge is a _terrible_ power," he snarked.

Cameron watched him anxiously. "Why did you come here?" she said at last. She never questioned him when he came to see her, but now, she felt the urge to know the reason behind his excursion. House didn't just show up without a purpose. And he certainly didn't show up to tell anyone that they were right about anything.

"Great bar down the street," he remarked. "Bartender flagged me, so I figured..."

"Fine, don't tell me," Cameron rolled her eyes. "I didn't really expect you to anyway."

House's eyes lit up in delight, a sure sign that she'd regret pushing his buttons. "Cameron," he began softly, walking up to her. She froze, paralyzed. What the hell was he doing? His eyes bore into hers suddenly and she felt her lungs struggling to draw oxygen into her system. She clenched her fists to keep herself from trembling.

"House, what are you..." she began quietly, eyes rimmed with confusion. She felt unstable and shaky, but she made no move to pull away.

"Cameron," he began again, gently. "I'm in love with you."

She stood stunned, this time her mouth remaining firmly shut, but her eyes widening reluctantly. They'd been here before, she tried to tell herself. He said this before. He said this and then he took advantage of her shock in order to swab her mouth for her HIV test. This had to be another trick.

But, he wasn't faltering.

She felt her lips attempt to part to say something, but she couldn't recall what she had meant to say. She couldn't seem to put any of her thoughts into words. She couldn't even figure out if what she was experiencing was a good or bad feeling. Nothing made sense, least of all, House hovering over her, looking at her like a wounded puppy. In the distance she thought she heard her phone ringing, and the sound seemed to have made its way into House's ears as well.

And then, he laughed. It started out as a chuckle then grew into a ferocious cackle. Her cheeks flushed with anger. He was definitely back all right.

He muted his laughter into a grin, eyes taunting her. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" he asked curiously. He always had to have the power. She felt sick.

"And you wonder why I don't miss you?" she replied, pushing him towards the door. "Now leave. Chase will be here soon and you'll only irritate him." She was trying her best to return her breathing to a normal pace.

"Just by _being_ here?" he asked innocently.

"Your presence is more than enough to cause people to want to hurt you," she insisted, still fuming. "Now go and tell Wilson I'm through being his errand boy."

"Role playing now?" House teased. "Because if you're going to be the errand boy, then I want to be..."

"_House_!" she snapped, pure venom in her voice, still unsettled by his cruel behavior just minutes ago. The icy tone of her words even startled her, but she didn't dare let that show. She just kept eye contact.

He'd flinched. Perhaps her tone surprised him or maybe knowing that he had hurt her finally registered in his brain. Either way, he looked oddly apologetic for a moment, but as always, the weakness passed, replaced by a look of nonchalance.

"Wilson never asked you to come see me." His sentence hung in between them, her secret revealed.

"I can't just be worried about you?" she said simply, feeling a bit exposed now that he knew she'd sought him out simply because she had wanted to.

"You've never had a problem voicing your concerns in the past," House told her.

Cameron's eyes darted away from him. Her phone rang again from the distance of her bedroom. She looked back up at him. "You need to leave."

"Do you want me to leave?"

She wasn't sure what he was getting at with his question, but she didn't have the time to find out. "I _need_ you to leave," she insisted.

"Well, congratulations again on your victory," House remarked. "You not only fooled me into thinking Wilson sent you, but you got me back to work, and you're just keeping me off of drugs left and right."

He sounded normal. He looked normal. But something in the jerk of his mouth as he spoke the words _wasn't_ normal. Something she had said or done had changed him. She just couldn't figure out what.

"I like you better without the methadone," Cameron said, eyeing her bedroom, the phone still ringing, hoping this short answer would suffice and encourage him to leave.

He shot her a half smile. "Right, because at least this way, I'm still _damaged_," he teased. Cameron shot him daggers. He grinned. "So, if you're ever interested...." he went on.

She hated herself for smiling. But she did, as he knew she would. It was as close as he would ever come to apologizing. It was also as close as he would ever come to thanking her, at least, for the moment.

Inexplicably, it was more than enough.

xxx

I had this chapter written for months and was just waiting to get to this point to post it...don't worry, I think you'll like what I have in store next...at least, I hope so.

Spoiler for the upcoming vignette relating to "Saviors"...I just wanted to emphasize that when House was talking to Cuddy he said, and I quote, "Cameron doesn't want back on the team and she doesn't want back on me..." Now, to the unsuspecting viewer, this quotes says, "Damn, Cameron doesn't want House anymore..." But to yours truly it says, "HOLD UP...'BACK ON' HOUSE? When was she ever ON House? And why haven't they mentioned this...they're talented writers...surely this couldn't be a fluke or merely lousy word usage???

Oh, I know why they worded it that way...so that I could give their story a better twist than they have, that's why.

Review!!!!


	13. Cameron's Not Impressed by Dr McDreamy

Takes place during one of the four episodes before Saviors where Cameron is not present at all in the show. Chase is rarely seen as well, giving me creative freedom to make them do whatever I please. Well, not whatever, because I've vowed to be more or less realistic, but you catch my drift...

And one comment about the last chapter...the whole "I love you scene" with House wasn't done to show that House is in fact in love with Cameron. You can speculate that he is, but he only said he loved her in order to gage the reaction he received from her. He wants to know how she feels about him, so he'll pull any trick in the book to find out the truth. The scene probably won't be discussed any further, because Cameron, knowing House so well, understands his motives here, hence why she was so furious afterwards.

Okay, any other questions, feel free to ask!

XxX

Cameron replayed the message five times, just to make sure she'd heard it right the first four times.

"_Al...I'm just...look, you take your space and do what you have to do. I can't keep...it's just not fair to me. I can't keep waiting around like this. I _know_ you love me, but if you can't say it, then we have a problem. I know this isn't fair to you either, but I'm taking a week to reevaluate this relationship and I hope you do the same. I want to make this work, but I just need to know that you do too_."

Cameron blinked. She still wasn't sure what had happened.

She and Chase had gotten into a huge fight the night before about her reluctance to commit. He thought she was afraid and she kept telling him that she _was_ invested in their relationship...she just had a weird way of showing how much she cared.

He'd stormed out and she never called to fix things like she usually did. They avoided each other at work and now this...this message. She wasn't sure what he meant. Were they broken up? Why did he get to decide that? What was he _really_ asking for? It was all so ambiguous.

Pausing by the door, she wondered if she shouldn't change her plans and opt for a night in with Ben & Jerry's to comfort her. Suddenly, a night out seemed like the absolute last thing she wanted to be doing. She wasn't even sure if she was upset, or angry, or perhaps hurt.

She glanced down at the cell phone in her hand, wondering if she should call Foreman and cancel. It was just dinner and drinks. It was no big deal.

She shook her head, reaching for her jacket. If it was no big deal, then she shouldn't cancel. She _wouldn't_ cancel just because of Chase. He'd be sitting there grinning about how he had finally hurt her, and she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. If he wanted to break up with her answering machine, then fine. She wasn't going to sit at home and wallow, even if she didn't feel like facing the general public just yet.

xxx

"Where's Chase?" Foreman asked as Cameron rushed over to the table, blonde hair flying wildly.

Cameron raised an eyebrow reproachfully, scanning the crowd. "I uh..." She hadn't been prepared for this. She had already been running late for dinner when she noticed Chase's message, and after replaying it incessantly, she'd added an extra twenty minutes onto that tardiness. Yet, here she was, and Chase, well, Chase was very much _not_ in sight.

"Sorry!" Thirteen said, rushing in and joining the two at the tall pub table. "Kutner had car trouble so I had to drive him home," she explained quickly.

Cameron smiled at her in acknowledgment, grateful for her perfectly timed interruption.

"It's fine," Foreman insisted as she slid into the chair next to him.

"Where's Chase?" Thirteen asked, more out of habit than genuine concern.

_Crap_, Cameron thought. _And Thirteen had been doing so well_.

"He's um...well, didn't he..."

"You didn't tell me _she _was going to be here!" House exclaimed dramatically as he and Wilson entered the restaurant.

Cameron shot Foreman a knowing look. She hadn't known House was coming out.

"He claimed he was offended that we didn't invite him," Thirteen explained quickly, in a hushed tone.

Cameron looked baffled. "House? Offended? _Come on._"

Thirteen shrugged. "I'm with you. But that's what he said."

Cameron tried to compose herself as Wilson and House made their way over to the table. House eyed the only two open seats, both on either side of Cameron. He made a face.

"You're splitting up the dream team," he exclaimed sarcastically.

Cameron rolled her eyes.

"Where's Chase?" Wilson asked.

Cameron kicked him from under the table.

"Ow!" Wilson exclaimed, not so subtly. "Wrong question?"

Cameron sighed. "Since apparently it's all anyone can talk about, I do not know where Chase is. Last I knew, he was coming here."

"Didn't think to check in on him?" House asked, curiosity peaked.

Cameron fumed inwardly, turning sharply to meet his gaze. "He probably wouldn't answer," she remarked, giving away the information she knew he was searching for.

"He still hasn't figured out how to work a phone?" House chided. "I tell you, those Aussies get dumber and dumber every..."

"What can I get for you?" the waitress asked. She flashed an all too eager smile at Wilson.

"I'll have a Heineken," Foreman began, than turned to Thirteen. "Gin and tonic?" he asked, and she nodded in response. He looked at Cameron, squinting as if trying to remember. Cameron usually opted not to drink. But tonight was different. She was trying to hold herself together, and Foreman knew her well enough to know that much. Tonight was a night for alcohol. "Make it two Heineken's," he insisted, nodding to the waitress. Cameron grinned.

"Gee, extensive drink knowledge?" House commented, belittling Foreman. "I do think you missed your calling."

Foreman ignored House as he and Wilson placed their orders.

"So, where's Kutner?" House asked. "He owes me fifty dollars."

"For what?" Wilson asked, usually in on the betting pools.

"_House_," Foreman warned, knowing full well it wouldn't help.

Thirteen shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyeing the table as if it had suddenly become very interesting.

"What?" Cameron asked, feeling like all of the tension was being cast onto her.

"Oh nothing," House replied, apparently reveling from something.

Cameron sighed. "What was the bet?" she asked, now certain that it had involved her in some way.

House looked unfazed. "We just had a small wager on how long it would be before you broke it off with Chase."

"What?" Cameron snapped. She eyed Thirteen and Foreman suspiciously. "Who's _we_?"

Thirteen looked up guiltily. "All of us," she admitted. "Well, not Wilson. But me, Foreman, House, Kutner, Taub..."

"Cuddy," House remarked.

Cameron snickered. "Knowing Cuddy she probably bet that I _wouldn't_ break up with him."

"No, that was me," Foreman insisted, raising his hand.

"Well, thank you," Cameron remarked. She eyed Thirteen,

"Hey, at least I gave you guys another year!" she defended.

Cameron shook her head. "And Kutner? Taub?"

"Well, Kutner only gave you guys three more months. And House and Taub both bet on this month, so..."

"So that makes them the winners," Cameron remarked, eyeing House angrily. "What was Cuddy's bet?"

"Wouldn't tell us," Foreman and Thirteen said in unison.

Cameron laughed, turning to House. "Meaning she gave you a specific scenario?"

"One that would _never_ come true," House remarked, emphasizing the word _never_ theatrically. He turned back to Cameron. "So tell me...did he cry?" he asked dramatically.

Cameron scowled. "Well," she began, grabbing her beer bottle as the waitress handed it to her. "I hate to spoil your party, but _no one_ won the bet."

"You and Chase _didn't_ break up?" Foreman asked carefully, and Cameron could almost feel him calculating her response, wondering if he had summed up her emotional state inaccurately.

"_Ah_," Wilson remarked, figuring it all out. He turned to Cameron. "I would let them suffer. After all, they _did _place a bet at your expense."

Cameron smiled gratefully at Wilson, but House being House figured it all out on his own.

"Really?" House asked, shocked. "Chase broke up with _you_?"

Cameron took a long gulp of her beer. "It's...he...it's _complicated_," she insisted.

"So you guys didn't break up?" Thirteen asked.

"Well...yes...no...sort of..."

"But you guys _aren't _together?" Foreman asked.

Cameron thought about his statement. "Technically...no," she remarked. "At least, that's what my answering machine told me."

"Ouch," Thirteen and Wilson said in response.

xxx

It had taken almost ten minutes, but Cameron had been able to change the subject. Foreman and Thirteen left right after dinner and Cameron had excused herself to the bar, not wanting to be the third wheel with Wilson and House. Actually, she was avoiding House and his sarcasm. She wasn't in the mood for his jokes, but she also wasn't ready to go home.

"Another beer?" the bartender asked.

Cameron nodded eagerly, playing idly with the round coaster in front of her.

"I got it," the guy next to her called, winking at her.

Cameron scrunched up her face in disgust. He had been hitting on her nonstop since she'd sat down at the bar.

"No thanks," Cameron said, turning away before he could say anything else.

The bartender exchanged a knowing smile with her as he handed her the drink.

"Thanks," she mouthed, raising it to her lips.

"Looks like I'm d.d. tonight," a voice behind her said.

Cameron spun around, matching voice with face. "Do you even know what the qualifications of a designated driver are?" she asked.

House looked mildly amused. "Pretty much the opposite of what you are at this moment."

"I haven't had that much," Cameron lied. She had. She assumed she'd call a cab to take her home.

"Right," House nodded. "Five beers at the table, and god knows how many over here."

Cameron turned back around, ignoring him. "Hurry up," he said, tapping her shoulder repeatedly. "Gray's Anatomy is on in five."

"I'm _not _going on your motorcycle," Cameron insisted. The thought of it made her queasy.

"Kinky, but not quite what I had in mind," House remarked. "Wilson drove me here and Wilson has conveniently disappeared. So, you're as much my ride as I am yours."

Cameron was unable to refute that logic, so she quickly finished her beer, pushing a fifty towards the end of the bar.

"Fine," she said, grabbing her jacket.

House grinned. "If you don't start acting nicer to me, people may think we're _actually _married."

Cameron smirked. "Just drive," she insisted, tossing him her keys as she ambled through the parking lot to her car.

XxX

"Shh, it's Dr. McDreamy," House hissed, closing her lips with a pillow, using the plush object to push her back against the couch. "You really are an annoying person to watch tv with."

"That's why I don't watch tv," she remarked, her voice muffled from the fabric of the pillow. She waited until he thought he'd sustained her before ripping the pillow from his grasp.

"Twelve year old girls watch this show," she commented. "You know that right?"

House's eyes lit up, amused. "Got any phone numbers?" he teased.

Cameron hit him over the head with the pillow. "Oh! Oh! The credits!" she remarked. "At last! I thought it would never end!"

House grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. She gasped, startled by his forcefulness and fell silent at his touch.

He cracked a smile. "Don't _ever_ insult this show again," he warned, letting her go.

Cameron laughed, reaching into the bowl of popcorn. "I'm so hungry," she remarked.

"One, you may have cleared the bar out of Heineken. And two, contrary to popular Cosmo! belief, you actually _do_ have to eat in order to stay alive."

Cameron threw a spare piece of popcorn at his head. "For someone so dead set on not conforming to societal standards, you sure do have a lot of rules."

House rolled his eyes. "I have to set guidelines for drunk girls. They never seem to know when to stop."

Cameron eyed him coyly. "_Trust me_," she teased. "You couldn't get that lucky."

House laughed, turning the television off. "Night!" he remarked, propelling himself up with his cane.

"Oh no," Cameron remarked, crossing her arms haughtily. "I'm _not _staying here. You're driving me home."

House popped open his pill bottle, dropping three pills into his mouth and washing them down with the half empty glass of scotch he'd poured for her. "Can't," he remarked, swallowing. "_So drunk_. Plus, your car's here."

Cameron narrowed her eyes. "You are such a child."

House shrugged. "You're a thirty _something_ year old woman who goes out and gets hammered when she can't figure out why she can't commit to a relationship she's claimed to have wanted for years." He paused. "But I suppose I have my bad points too."

Cameron's eyes widened, jaw tightening. "You're a fifty _something_ year old doctor who gets his kicks from toying with other _employees_ because he has no real friends or prospective girlfriends to amuse himself with."

"Ooh, ouch!" House remarked, rolling his eyes. He started towards his bedroom, but then turned around, considering something. "You know, for someone who, _has no real friends or prospective girlfriends_ I certainly can't seem to shake you."

Cameron grinned. "Exactly. _You _can't shake me, but _I _can shake you..." She stopped. "Wait...did that...I don't know if that said exactly what I meant to say...." She paused, rubbing her head, then surprised House by laughing.

House shook his head, disappearing into his bedroom and then returning with a long sleeved flannel shirt and a pair of sweat pants. "Here," he remarked, tossing them at her. Cameron met his stare with confusion. "Well, you can't sleep in _that_," he insisted, eyeing her outfit.

Cameron looked down at her dark blue silk blouse and black skirt. "Um, thanks," she replied, her usual vulnerability breaking through the alcohol induced carefree front she'd created.

House rolled his eyes. "Don't get any crazy ideas," he warned mockingly. "You're _not_ sleeping with me."

Cameron snorted. "Wasn't planning on it," she told him.

"Of course if you _do_ decide to come into my bedroom, you better not be wearing any of that," House remarked, motioning to the clothes she was wearing as well as the clothes he'd thrown to her.

"House," she began slowly, clutching the loaned clothes as she made her way over to him. She took exaggeratedly small steps, and she could tell as she moved closer that she was making him nervous. He had no idea what drunk Cameron would do.

She arched her neck back so that she was looking straight up at him, her breasts pushed into his chest. She leaned in, eyes remaining firmly on his.

"Get over yourself," she whispered, smiling coyly as she steered past him and into the bathroom.

XxX

It was six when she woke up, head pounding and body pleading for her to shut her eyes. But, hungover or not, she was entirely too practical to fall back into the temptation of sleep, and reluctantly, she hoisted herself up off of the soft, firm..._bed_?

She froze, taking a moment to collect herself before allowing her head to whip around, panicked. She was in House's bedroom. In House's bed. Under House's sheets.

She jumped up and onto the floor and was nearly to the door when she realized something was irrational about her terror. Yes, she was in House's bed, but he was certainly nowhere to be found.

That's when it came flooding back to her. She'd gone into the bathroom to change and when she came back out, House had set up camp on the couch. He feigned being asleep for about two minutes, until he couldn't resist throwing yet another couch pillow at her. She insisted that he take the bed, and he turned over onto his side, resting his weight on his good leg, and told her to go to hell.

She'd smiled but knew better than to thank him.

Grinning from that memory, she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her clothes from the evening before, setting them on a chair with her purse. She quickly made the bed, knowing that this effort would make House cringe, and then she grabbed her things, heading out into the living room.

He was sleeping soundly, looking oddly small under the light cotton blanket draped over his body. Cameron smiled at the sight, then disappeared into the kitchen in search of paper. She found a small pad of post-its and grinned at her luck. She dug through her purse until she found a pen and quickly scribbled a small note.

_House –_

_I should tease you and call you 'chivalrous' but we both know you're sleeping on the couch because you secretly know you couldn't handle me. _

_Ally_

She scrutinized the note for a moment. She hadn't meant to use her first name, but now that it was there, in writing, it looked like it belonged. Still, she felt it somehow made the note all the more personal and worried he might get the wrong idea.

Despite her minor worries, she ripped it off of the stack of scratch paper and walked into the living room, wondering where to put it. She considered the bathroom mirror, or his vicodin bottle, or perhaps even the tv, but as he let out a slight snore, proving that he really _was_ dead asleep, she thought of a better place.

And that was why when House woke up an hour later, wondering why the entire world was bathed in pink, he found his forehead had been attacked by a crazed woman who decided it would be fun to leave a note stuck to his skin.

Even if she hadn't been the only other person in the apartment, he knew those loopy g's cold.

XxX

Okay, sorry the update took so long! I'm busy with finals! Also, I'm very sorry to tell you Cameron and Chase _will_ be getting back together...but the H/C isn't over! In fact, I have it on _very_ good authority that this story may end with a very steamy H/C flashback.

Review!!!


	14. Safe Together in Nothingness

Thanks again to all who've reviewed!

By the way, the first segment of this chapter takes place one day _before_ the suicide. So, no, it's not a mistake that Kutner's at work. Also, there's not much humor in this chapter, because Kutner dies...

Perhaps House would still find ways to be humorous, but not Cameron...hence the serious tone.

xXx

Cameron brushed past Foreman and House's fellows, quickly pushing her way into House's office and interrupting him from watching his favorite soap opera. His expression was anything but pleasant.

"What was Cuddy's bet?" she asked, not bothering to hide her curiosity. The question had prodded her all day long and while she was embarrassed to ask it aloud, especially to House, she really wanted to know the answer.

House leaned to the left, making an obvious attempt to ignore her and continue watching his show.

Cameron's eyes narrowed in recognition of his attempt to dismiss her.

"Shhh!" he remarked over-dramatically, holding a finger up to his lips.

Cameron rolled her eyes, turning around and hitting the 'power' button on the television. She set her hands on her hips and she spun back around to glare at him.

His eyes widened with his usual amusement. "Can't you find someone else to irritate? Wilson? Cuddy?" He licked his lips slyly. "_Chase_?"

Cameron refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words had stung.

"Are you going to answer me or are we going to play games?" she asked, exasperated.

"All work and no play keeps the doctor away," he grinned devilishly.

Cameron smirked. "I think you're mixing up mantras again," she replied cooly. She peered out through the glass wall and found Foreman reading a medical journal with vague indifference in his eyes. Kutner sat at the computer, no doubt playing some sort of online game, and Taub hung up his phone, eyeing the computer screen with no particular interest. Thirteen seemed to be nursing a headache, arms folded across the conference table and head resting comfortably on top. Cameron squinted. Or maybe she was sleeping?

"_Hey_," House snapped. "If you're going to bug me, then at least allow me the small honor of being the only one you hone your attention in on," he replied, feigning insult to her looking around the office.

Cameron turned back to him, annoyed. "They get paid for _this_?"

"Oh, don't sound so surprised," House remarked, looking at her curiously. "We don't have a case. You remember how slow some days were. Or maybe you don't, what with your old tendencies to sort through my mail and answer my email. Or perhaps you and Chase were too busy smiling dumbly at each other to notice you weren't doing anything?"

Cameron managed to look unaffected by his harshness. "So you're insulting me for actually opting to _work_ when we were slow?"

House shrugged. "You got paid either way. Chase did those silly puzzles of his, Foreman either read or pretended not to be sleeping, but you did everything there was left to do."

"Yeah, you're right, I have a _serious_ problem," she remarked, rolling her eyes.

"Actually I have a box full of unopened mail and twelve pages full of unanswered emails, so if you're not doing anything..."

"My shift starts in ten minutes," Cameron remarked, ignoring his condescending tone.

"Pity," House remarked, leaning back in his chair to look at Thirteen. "Thirteen's useless when it comes to organization. Easy on the eyes like you, but it ends there..."

Cameron sighed, showing her disapproval of his judging Thirteen, although she couldn't stop a small smile from creeping across her face. "Bye House," she said lightly, questioning why she'd even bothered to show up in the first place.

"Oh, _come on_," House replied, grinning from ear to ear. "That's it? You've given up _that_ easily?"

Cameron shrugged. "I've learned that when your mind's made up, there's nothing I can do, short of blackmail and bribery to persuade you to do otherwise."

"You forgot bondage," he teased.

Cameron rolled her eyes.

House let out an overly dramatic sigh. "Cuddy bet that _you _would end the relationship," he said slowly, as if it was killing him to reveal this information.

Cameron perked up. "Really?" she asked, startled.

House nodded. "She said she didn't think you two _would_ breakup, but _if_ you did, it would be because _you_ realized you were in love with someone else."

Cameron narrowed her eyes. "She did _not_."

House leaned forward, folding his hands together. "Now, the question is...did she _win_ or _lose_?"

xXx

Cameron's eyes zoned in on Cuddy, and she quickly snapped her chart shut. She walked quickly over to the administrator, trying to get House's voice out of her head.

"Cuddy, got a second?" she asked, mustering up as much niceness as she could gather. Her smile, normally natural and easy, looked strange and offsetting.

Cuddy nodded, leading Cameron into a lightly trafficked hallway. "Everything all right, Dr. Cameron?" she asked, always the epitome of professionalism at work.

Cameron nodded slowly. "Yeah, I mean, I'd still take a few more nurses if you could convince the budget committee to spare..."

Cuddy sighed. "We've been through this. You were _on_ the budget committee. You know how they work. They won't consent to..."

"I know, I know," Cameron said quickly, wondering why she was dodging her main point. "I um...Chase and I..."

"I heard," Cuddy said simply, but not unsympathetically. "He came to me to get authorization on a risky surgery, and it just sort of spilled out." She locked eyes with Cameron. "He wants to be with you."

Cameron nodded solemnly. "I know." She did.

Cuddy smiled. "You should talk to him."

"I know," Cameron repeated.

Cuddy finally began to notice Cameron's anxiousness. "Is there something else you wanted to ask me?"

Cameron began hesitantly. "It's about House."

Cuddy's eyes brightened. "Oh?"

"He uh, had this...bet," she began, looking down at the ground and then back up, focusing in on the wall, anywhere but Cuddy's piercing eyes. "It was a typical House type bet, you know, exciting and completely none of his business, and rather insulting..."

"Sounds familiar," Cuddy joked.

Cameron smiled. "Were you...it's just...he said that you were in on it."

Cuddy blinked and her surprise was genuine. "I don't think so," she replied seriously. "Why? What was the wager?"

Cameron shook her head, relief flooding through her. "Never mind," she insisted, nodding gratefully. "He was just messing with me and being...being..."

"House?" Cuddy offered.

Cameron nodded. "Uh, Dr. Cuddy?"

"Yes?"

"Could you maybe, not say anything to House about this? Wouldn't want him to think I played right into his childish game."

"Even though you did?" Cuddy replied, humor in her words.

Cameron nodded.

Cuddy smiled. "Not a problem," she agreed, walking away.

"Thanks," Cameron called after her, agitated that House still had the power to make her seem desperate and girlish.

XxX

It seemed unfathomable. Just a day before she'd strolled leisurely into House's office to procure information from him, and Kutner had been sitting at the computer, same as always, looking a little tired, but mostly pleasant. He'd been sitting there all day long and then he left and went home, like always. Cameron had actually walked out with him, but her beeper went off before they exited the doors. He started to say something to her, and she yelled, "what?", having already been too far away to hear him, and then he shook his head and yelled, "See you tomorrow".

So, of course, she wondered if maybe she could have stopped him. Maybe she could have prevented this. Her husband...she couldn't save him. But Kutner...he had no reason to...

It was strange. They were hardly even friends, barely more than associates, but she wondered if during that brief walk to the hospital parking he'd been trying to connect with her, to reach out. He was there when Amber died, and he knew House had enlisted her to help Wilson. Maybe he thought she could help him.

Or maybe she was just thinking too far into things. Maybe he had started to say goodbye, and just repeated himself.

Of course, it didn't matter...not to anyone, except her. She sometimes hated her role as a doctor, because it placed her among the ranks of generally emotionally stunted people as associates. They would tell her that there was no use dwelling over this scene, replaying it over and over again, because it _wouldn't_ change anything. He was still dead, and even if she ever figured out an answer, he still would be dead.

It didn't matter.

But for some strange reason, it _did_ matter to her. She wasn't feeling guilty. She knew better now. Guilt would get her nowhere and it wasn't her fault. She knew that much. But the need to know the whole truth tore her up inside.

XxX

She went out to the parking lot, sun blinding her as she squinted, trying to remember where she'd parked. Her new position was supposed to have come with a set parking space, but Cuddy had never gotten around to giving her one. And, not being one to complain, she politely asked once, and then let it go. It wasn't a huge issue.

Before she could spot her car, a figure stepped in her way. She offered a weak half-smile, unable to muster much else. Too much had happened. She wasn't in the mood for conversation.

Without saying a word, she followed Chase to his car, opening the door, closing the door, adjusting the seatbelt; all of her responses automatic. She thought about resting her hand on his, but also felt the strong desire to be alone in her grief. She was glad he'd been looking for her, and glad he had found her, but she wasn't ready to make amends just yet.

They hadn't talked since that night, the night he'd left that message, and that had been nearly two weeks ago. She called him twice, only twice, and hung up halfway through the third ring. He had caller id. She knew he'd know she'd tried to contact him, then changed her mind.

They rode in silence, and when they arrived at the church, Cameron stepped outside, head reeling. She knew it wasn't fair, but every funeral reminded her of her husband. Was it right that all she could relate her former husband with was death? He had been a great man, but now, all she could equate him with was absence.

She wondered if Chase knew where her mind was. She wondered if he cared. She wondered if she should feel guilty that they silent tears welling up in her eyes had little to do with Kutner. She wondered if it would be rude to leave.

She saw Cuddy and Wilson, Foreman, and Thirteen. Several nurses from the ER were present, but she made no move to greet them. You didn't greet people at a funeral. You weren't glad they were there.

As the speeches went on, she watched as Cuddy bit her lip, struggling to remain in control of her own actions. She saw Wilson's eyes glaze over and she found comfort in the fact that she wasn't the only one being transported back in time, back to a more personal tragedy. She saw Thirteen's body tremble ever so slightly and watched as Foreman stood, torn between comforting her, or playing the House card.

House and Taub weren't present. This didn't surprise her.

At the cemetery, she felt Chase by her side, but still, they never said a word. Cuddy seemed more controlled now, eyes looking out blankly and numbly. Wilson seemed worse, and she fought the urge to hug him, to share in his pain, to be understood.

The last coherent thought she could recall having happened the moment Foreman broke through his barrier and clasped Thirteen's hand, registering a look of shock, and finally relief from her sad face. This familiar gesture made Cameron feel miles away from Chase, as he stood beside her, patiently, trying to do what he thought she wanted him to do. If she reached out her hand for his, all would be forgiven. Even more than that, he'd know that she was ready to let him in, completely. One seemingly insignificant gesture could say so much.

But, Cameron didn't feel like talking, so she crossed her arms and stared straight ahead.

xxx

She found the ring that night. She was shivering and opened his drawer, looking for warm clothes, mainly thick socks.

It wasn't even hidden. It was almost as if he wanted her to know it was there, wanted her to know that if she wanted to stay in this thing, he wanted all of her.

She felt no desire to open the box and look at the ring. She didn't care what it looked like, just what it meant.

She couldn't sit on her hands forever. She had to decide what was important to her and what wasn't. She couldn't bask in grief forever, claiming, she'd loved once and that was enough.

But she couldn't help but wonder whether Chase deserved more than she could give him. It was ultimately impossible for her to give him everything. She didn't have it all left to give. She'd surrendered to someone else, and when he died, he took pieces out of her...pieces she'd never be able to repair. Yes, House was right, she was damaged. And maybe she looked for damaged people because she knew she wouldn't feel guilty about not being able to give all of herself to them...because they couldn't do the same for her.

Chase was scarred, surely. He was bruised and battered, emotionally worn and spent. But he wasn't beyond repair. He recovered quite quickly. He was resilient. He'd refused to let anyone take away parts of him. He'd kept intact all of these years, surviving through more than Cameron had ever been through.

Yet, here he was ready to lay it all down on the line, and for her. Wasn't this supposed to be a dream come true? Shouldn't she feel elated, and not nauseous?

Her stomach churned as she reached for the phone, undecided which number she would dial. Wilson seemed safest. He'd no doubt be in the same spirit she was in, and he'd help her make a rational decision. He had always been the only one in the hospital who had ever bothered to look out for her. Sure, Foreman had changed a bit, grown. He acted as her big brother some times, but she wasn't looking for protection, just insight. And deep conversations weren't Foreman's strong point.

Of course she could call Chase and try to break through some barriers. In fact, she knew that this was what she ought to do. He was willing to try to make their relationship right. He was willing to fight for her.

Surely her fingers just slipped and hit the wrong buttons. Perhaps in her heightened state of vulnerability she merely managed to dial the wrong memorized number. Perhaps her memory was jumbled. Maybe she didn't even fully realize what she'd done, until it was completed.

No matter the reasons, a moment later, an audible click could be heard, and Cameron heard the light static and silence that signified someone else was on the line with her.

He didn't say "hello" and she found herself grateful for the lack of words. Whether he wasn't speaking because he knew she needed the silence and feeling of being connected with another human being, or because _he_ needed the very same thing, she'd never know.

But she fell asleep on the couch to the sound of his nothingness.

XxX

If you think she called Chase...you're following the wrong story.

Okay, the next installment will have Chase and Cameron back together and then split, and then sadly, reunited.

But there's always hope, right?

Oh, and in the next chapter or two we'll find out whether 'Cameron' is her maiden name or married name...I've always wondered, so now I'm creating an answer.

Reviews are lovely!


	15. Competing With a Dead Guy is Idiotic

Forgive me...while Cameron is easily my favorite character and I'm strongly supportive of Hameron, I _do_ like Cuddy and think she's a very interesting and altogether hilarious character. If she is not presented as such in this chapter, please do not think it is because I'm bashing her. I'm not, and I cringe to write her this way, but well, they made her needy and insecure in Saviors and I need her in this chapter, so in order to keep her characterization in tune to what the writers apparently want...here goes.

I really ought to have added this first segment to the last chapter, but what's done is done. This first segment will take place, _before_ Saviors and the next after Saviors. I didn't want to leave it out, because I think it's significant and sets up for things to come.

Also, the three sections that take place after Saviors take place DIRECTLY after the locker room scene and before House goes home. House has not lost his mind quite yet...

XxX

"Brought you some tea."

Cameron turned around slowly, setting down the medical journal she'd been thumbing listlessly through. She smiled softly at the sight of Chase and accepted the cup.

"You can sit," she assured him, and he relaxed at the sound of her words.

"I would have...called last night, but I assumed you wanted to be alone," Chase said simply. His words weren't biting, just honest.

Cameron nodded. She was always amazed when he proved to know her fairly well. She wondered when he began to perceive her so well, and why she had missed it.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking down at the table. "I just..."

"I know," Chase said quickly.

Cameron offered a weak smile. _Did he?_

"I don't want us to be like this," Chase said after a moment.

Cameron sipped her tea, waiting for his suggestion. He always had a suggestion, and she figured it was best to wait and hear him out before offering any of her own insight.

"Do you like Hawaii?"

Cameron nearly choked on her tea. "Hawaii?" she questioned, coughing slightly. "I've never met anyone who _didn't_ like Hawaii." She mused inwardly. She was certain if _anyone _could find fault with Hawaii, it was House. But now certainly wasn't the time to joke about that, at least not out loud.

"Good," Chase said, grinning. "Because, I've been thinking and I think that maybe we need some time...away."

"Away," Cameron repeated numbly, head spinning. He wasn't...he wasn't going to propose was he? Not now. Not like this. Not with the two of them barely speaking! She searched his eyes frantically, before stumbling upon a reassuring thought. The ring was in his drawer, his drawer at _her_ apartment. She exhaled.

"A vacation," Chase clarified, as she took another sip of her tea, eager to busy her hands with some mediocre task. "I thought that maybe a few days away from here, from the hospital, might do us some good."

Cameron nodded. "I would have to talk to Cuddy," she began quickly. "About getting time off."

Chase smiled. "Already taken care of," he insisted, grinning wider. He squeezed her hand. "We leave next Tuesday...that is, if you _want_ to."

If she wanted to. All decisions regarding their relationship were ultimately left up to her. She looked up at his expectant face and smiled. The ring was safe and secure at her house and it was just a relaxing, stress-free vacation with a guy she...loved.

"Okay," she agreed, grinning. She laughed. "I don't think I've been on vacation since my freshman year in college."

Chase laughed back at her. "Well then you have a lot of time to make up for."

Cameron smiled. This would be fun, she told herself. It would be a chance to connect with Chase, far from the confines of PPTH, far from the influence of _others. _She needed this.

Chase stood up, bending down to kiss her forehead lightly before he left. "I missed you," he told her.

"I missed you too," she said, truthfully.

He beamed. "I'm here until eleven," he began, "but I wanted to know if it was all right if I swung by your apartment? I left something there that I need."

Cameron nodded slowly. _Crap._ He was getting the ring.

She watched his back fade from sight as he disappeared down the corridor, her eyes blurring from concentrating so intently at his silhouette.

XxX

Saviors Ep. 21

XxX

Lisa Cuddy was ashamed of how she'd acted in front of House, not just because she was his superior and it was immensely inappropriate for her to interrupt him in the clinic, but because he was House and she'd just given him power over her, power she didn't want him to have.

Well, maybe she did enjoy him having a slight power over her, but this went far beyond slight. She'd meant what she said to Cameron. No one _should_ be involved with House, and that included her.

Still, his carefully chosen words kept ringing through her ears. At first, she'd walked away satisfied, glad to know that Cameron wasn't, in fact, still pining over House. When Chase and Cameron came into her office to tell her the news of their engagement, she hated that part of her was mainly excited that Cameron would be out of House's range. An engaged Cameron was a Cameron who was nearly married, and Cameron was one of those girls who would _never_ under any circumstance cheat. House knew this. That wiped her off of his radar, or at least made the possibility of the two of them getting together impossible.

She was genuinely excited for the two though. Their engagement was good. They were good for each other. House...he'd be terrible for Cameron. He'd be terrible for anyone.

She sighed. She was just wishing despair upon herself.

But it was after this news, when Chase left to go find Foreman, when Cameron and Cuddy were sitting down that Cuddy rambled on about her interrupting House. She wasn't sure why she was unloading her troubles to Cameron, of all people, but she seemed to realize that Cameron would be the only other person to understand where her head was.

But when she repeated his words, they took on a new meaning, and the recognition that ignited in Cameron's eyes made Cuddy worry.

This was strange. Cameron would never cheat on Chase. Chase and Cameron were getting married. House was convinced Cameron didn't want him anymore. Where was this worry coming from?

It was a new type of worry, one she hadn't considered. She knew Cameron had crushed on House. She knew they'd gone on a silly fake date. She knew about the monster truck outing. She knew House trusted Cameron. She even knew about the kiss they'd shared when Cameron was trying to sneak some blood out of him. She knew it all. She was the eyes and ears of the hospital, and little happened without her knowledge.

But House's careful choice of wording implied that perhaps she _didn't _know it all. Cameron was certainly capable of keeping a secret and House could too, especially when he thought it would tarnish his precious reputation as a tortured, sadistic son of a bitch.

"_Cameron doesn't want back on the team and she doesn't want back on me..."_

It seemed minute. The word. _Back_. It could have been a slip, but this was House. He never made verbal faux pas. He chose every word precisely, emphasizing just the right syllable, stressing his meanings, his mocking tone certain and sure of each and every phrase.

Which led her to believe that this was no slip of tongue. _Back_. As far as she knew, Cameron had only been on _one_ of the two things; House's team, certainly _not_ House.

Her chest burned. Certainly not? How could she be so sure?

She could ask Cameron. She could bear the humiliation and shame. Liking House, even a little bit, meant having to endure endless amounts of embarrassment. Yes, she could handle losing a slice of dignity. But, she couldn't be sure Cameron would tell her the truth. Everyone expected Cameron to burst with honesty, but secretly, Cuddy thought Cameron just might be better at lying and hiding secrets than the rest of them. She certainly had the whole innocent doctor gig going for her.

No, she couldn't ask Cameron and she most certainly couldn't ask House. That left one option...a long shot, but her only option nonetheless.

It wouldn't be as humiliating as questioning House in front of patients. Her dignity could remain intact.

Or so she hoped.

XxX

Cameron sat, foot bouncing rapidly, up and down, up and down, in the corner of Wilson's office, facing him expectantly. He shot her an apologetic look as he continued a conversation with another doctor, a bored expression on his face.

Cameron waited, the ring burning a hole in her pocket. She knew she ought to slip it on, but somehow the weight of the jewelry seemed burdensome. It was a bit too wide for her slender fingers, and she told Chase that she didn't want to risk losing it by wearing it. That was true. She'd be mortified if she lost it. Until they got it resized, she considered wearing it on a chain around her neck, but quickly dismissed that idea. She was no Carrie Bradshaw. A ring placed on a necklace was a deliberate scheme to place emphasis on the fact that she wasn't comfortable wearing it around her finger. Which she was. Would be. Once it was resized.

She'd come to Wilson for advice. He was an expert on cheating and she needed to know what was considered wrong and what wasn't. She came here to tell him something she was positive he had no knowledge of. She'd slept with House and now she was paying the repercussions.

When it came down to it, she _hadn't_ cheated on Chase. The very word _cheating_ made her feel nauseous and traitorous, even though she hadn't committed this unspeakable act of betrayal. She'd slept with House when she and Chase were on the outs. It was before they'd officially decided to begin a relationship. She knew it didn't count as cheating even though they had been involved prior to her rendevous with House. But, the guilt still clawed at her chest. This was why she needed Wilson's expertise. She needed to know whether she should tell Chase about the incident or not. She didn't want to withhold information from him, but she also didn't want him to think she and House were any closer than he already suspected they were. He'd always have trust issues when it came to her friendship with House, and she didn't want to give him more reason to mistrust her. But, she didn't want to lie either.

"Hmm...right. Right. Okay, well then, I'll fax those over to you. Sure. You too."

Wilson sighed dramatically as he hung up the phone. "You know, I hate doctors...so arrogant and condescending. I don't know why I ever became one."

Cameron smiled in recognition of his joke. "Well, if you hadn't become a doctor, how would you pay for all of that alimony?" she teased, smirking.

Wilson crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "You know, sometimes I wonder if the world wouldn't have been better off if you'd been trained by some nice, _caring_, sensitive doctor instead of House. Your susceptibility to sarcasm is alarmingly high."

Cameron grinned, her lips opening slightly to begin her next sentence. However, before she could utter a word, the door flew open.

"_Back on him_," Cuddy remarked, eyeing Wilson wildly. "_Back on him_. That's what he said!" she remarked throwing her hands up in exasperation. "He said it on _purpose_," she emphasized. "He never chooses the wrong word, which could only mean..."

"That you've clearly lost your mind," Wilson remarked, momentarily forgetting about Cameron in his heightened state of confusion. Cameron sat quietly, unsure of whether to make her presence known or not.

Cuddy seemed unfazed by his bewilderment. "Back on the team...makes sense, because she was on the team, right?"

"Uh...right?" Wilson replied, still trying to jump onto whatever tangent Cuddy was going off on.

"But back on _him_," she remarked. "Makes no sense. Unless she _was_ on him...at some point. Right?"

"Who are we talking about?" Wilson asked.

"Cameron!" Cuddy exclaimed just as Cameron remarked, "Me."

Cuddy spun to the right, eyes widening in recognition of Cameron's presence. Cameron looked uncomfortable, shifting quickly in her seat.

"Oh my god," Cuddy muttered, unable to recover from her embarrassment. "I...I didn't..."

Cameron shrugged. "It's okay," she said, standing up. "I'm used to it. Apparently, I'll be dealing with all of this baggage from when I _used_ to work for House over _two _years ago for the rest of my career." She smiled at Wilson, heading for the door.

"_Cameron_," both Cuddy and Wilson started at the same time. Cameron blinked up at them. She wasn't angry at Cuddy. She understood the need to know everything about House. He used to consume her entire life, at one time.

"We...we can talk later?" Wilson offered.

Cameron shook her head, turning the doorknob. "Actually, um, I kind of got the answer I was looking for."

"No, I'll go," Cuddy insisted. "I didn't mean to interrupt..."

"No, really, you actually _helped_," Cameron replied, nodding. "A lot, actually." She pulled open the door slipping through to the other side. "Oh, and Cuddy," she began, poking her head back in. "Did you ever think that _maybe _House worded whatever it was he said in a certain way, knowing it would drive you crazy?"

Cuddy stared at her blankly, pondering the possibility.

Cameron shrugged. "Just seems like something he might do."

XxX

"I hate you," Cameron replied bitterly, quietly, and quite truthfully as she walked into House's dim office. He looked transfixed as he sat solemnly, barely moving. It was well past eleven pm, and Cameron knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't still be at work if something wasn't bothering him. She was just also mature enough to realize that that _something_ probably had nothing to do with her.

"I'm sure there's a fan club you can join," he replied, as expected, but the usual joy was drained from him voice.

Cameron sat down across from him, wondering who many times they had played out this very same scenario; him in one chair, she in another, nothing but a block of wood between them. Hadn't they always needed something tangible in between them to explain the emotional distance that often separated them? She'd set strict rules in her own mind, and knew it was likely that he'd done the same. She'd keep to her side, he'd keep to his, because neither trusted themselves or the another far enough to throw them. In the daylight, it was fine. She could walk inside of his glass office, knowing that everyone could see her, feeling their eyes as less of a threat and more of a guarantee that nothing would happen. She was sure to keep phone calls under ten minutes in length and she'd stopped accepting his invitations to go out to bars. Then again, he'd stopped offering. It now struck her that she wasn't sure which had come first.

And at night, she'd keep three feet away from him at all times. She'd keep her hands firmly glued to her own body in some fashion, opting at the moment to have them neatly tucked into her pockets. Normally, coming to visit him at this hour, at this place, would be against her rules, but all rules had exceptions, and she'd convinced herself that this time was one of them. The last one.

"You know, sometimes I really do," Cameron said, opting to stare at a picture on the wall, a safe distance away from his head.

House took this opportunity to study her without her green eyes probing through his own, searching for...he wasn't even sure what she was searching for half the time. Emotion? Honesty? Answers?

"What is it they always say? If you hate someone, it's only because you recognize something in them that you hate in yourself?"

Cameron swallowed, then nodded. "That's pretty accurate," she remarked.

"You know you're going to marry him," he remarked, causing Cameron's head to snap towards his.

"Why do you say it like that?" she demanded. "Like it's not even my choice? Like I just _will_?"

House shrugged. "Because I know you will."

"But you can't _know_ that."

"I know you."

"No. You don't."

House looked down. "Right. I suppose that's Chase's job now..."

"When was it ever _yours_?" she snapped, her voice turning ugly. It's personal now. She hadn't wanted it to go this far, but deep down, she knew that one day this conversation would happen. It would _have_ to happen if she ever expected either of them to move on completely.

"It's what I do right?" he remarked, and she can detect the irony in his voice. "I _read_ people. I see things no one else does. I get inside of their heads."

Cameron sighed, looking down. "He doesn't know me," she remarked sadly. "Not yet," she added, a hint of optimism.

House smiled. She wouldn't be Cameron without a hint of optimism.

"So then, why marry him?"

Cameron looked at House oddly. "You tell me. Apparently you're quite the expert on me."

House shrugged, looking at her nonchalantly. "You're going to marry him because he loves you...because he'll always put you first. Because, he's put up with you through this much. Because, you don't think you'll find anyone else."

"Well, when you put it that way...." Her voice is icy, but she doesn't argue.

"Those aren't bad reasons," House argued. "They're practical."

"I love him," she added, looking up at House expectantly. "You had to know that."

He nodded. "You love that tree outside of my window," he remarked, downsizing her love for Chase.

Cameron narrowed her eyes but didn't retort. She looked away from him, letting him know that she didn't find him particularly funny.

"You loved your husband," House said quickly, eyes lowering to his desk.

Cameron bit her lip. She knew why he was bringing this up. It was a statement more than it was a question, but he wanted to know if she loved Chase like she loved her husband. It was a question she'd toyed with during every step of their relationship. She couldn't come clean with Chase about all of the details of her first marriage. It wouldn't be fair to hurt him that way...to tell him she would never, she _could_ never love him the way she'd loved the first one.

"His name was Eric," she said sadly, glad House wasn't looking her in the eye. "And no, I won't ever love anyone like I loved him."

A vague look of acknowledgment washed over House quickly, but still, he said nothing.

Cameron went on. "Chase doesn't...he never asks about him," she said. "I don't think he wants to know."

House shrugged, trying not to look uncomfortable. "Sounds like you're settling," he insisted.

Cameron shook her head. "No. I'll never love _anyone _the way I loved Eric. It's just how it is. I can't change it."

House's eyes met her. "Not anyone?"

Cameron shook her head. "Not anyone."

House looked back down. "Why'd you tell me his name?"

"What?"

"Your husband?" House questioned. "We've known about him for five years, and yet, no name dropping until now. Why the sudden change?"

Cameron sighed. He was good. There was a reason. There was always a reason.

"His name was Eric," she began again, meeting House's eye. "Eric Cameron."

His eyes registered the load of information she'd just revealed to him. "You never changed your name?"

She shook her head. "After the funeral...I lost everything. His parent thought I was after his money, so I never took a dime..."

"Saint Allison," House murmured. "Or is it Ally?" he teased, reminding her of the note she'd left for him.

Cameron smiled, thankful for House's attempt to lighten the tone. "Normally when someone dies, you still have everything except them. But, I lost my house and his friends...his family. I lost my whole life. I moved away and..." She shrugged. "I don't know...I just didn't want to lose his name." She rolled her eyes. "I can feel you making fun of me in your head," she smirked, though tears were forming in her eyes. She'd never quite mastered her ability to stifle tears.

"Does Chase know?" House asked seriously.

Cameron shook her head. "No," she replied. "Like I said, he's never asked."

"So what are you going to do?"

"About what?"

"Your name."

Cameron pursed her lips. "I want to keep it," she replied. "Do you think that's selfish?"

House smirked. "I'm partially responsible for the death of my best friend's girlfriend," he remarked. "And you want to know if keeping your name is selfish?"

Cameron smiled freely, wiping her eyes before the tears could fall. "Besides," she teased. "If I changed my name, you'd have to start calling me Chase."

A look of disgust crept over House's face. "I'm sure I could find a much more creative nickname," he assured her.

She grinned, and gradually their eyes both pulled away, pushing them back into familiar silences.

"House?" she began quietly.

He looked up to acknowledge her.

"I didn't mean it," she began quickly. "That time I said I didn't miss you." She shrugged. "I know you don't care, but I just wanted you to know."

"Seducing me so soon after your engagement?" House teased.

Cameron rolled her eyes and stood up. "I should go," she said at last.

"Don't want to be even more late for your vacation in paradise," House remarked, a hint of sarcasm detectable.

"Goodbye House..."

"Do you think he'd care, if he knew?" House asked quickly.

Cameron's eyes probed his.

"Chase," House began in explanation. "Do you think he'd care if he knew about your name?"

Cameron nodded. "I think he'd reevaluate his decision..._again_," she replied for emphasis.

House shook his head. "Competing with a dead guy," he muttered. "He's an _idiot_."

"Guess we're a couple of idiots then," Cameron said lightly.

"No," House remarked. "_You_ were never an idiot."

Cameron smiled as she backed away. She paused at the doorway, her hand on the trim. "I know you don't care but, I'm really going to miss you."

House pretended not to understand. "You're getting married. You're not moving. Or dying...although some would say it's just as bad..."

Cameron cut him off. "You know what I mean," she said seriously, before disappearing.

She knew he understood. Taking this next step with Chase would change everything with them. She would never again be _his_ Cameron. She was taken.

xxxx

Okay, sorry this took forever, but I'm hesitant to continue this until I know exactly what the season finale has in store for us.

As for anyone who already saw Under My Skin...does this mean Cameron and Chase are over? God, I hope so. Also, did anyone else think that Cameron mentioning the "liquid pre-nup" was all a weak excuse to convince Chase not to marry her? I don't know, it felt to me that she didn't want to be the one to break them up, so she was giving him an easy out or something...but either way, it was certainly weird...


	16. Misunderstood, Again

I'm extremely sorry that this update has taken so long, but in lieu of the finale (yes, I know, there's still hope, but that hope just dwindled down to a sliver so small you have to squint to make it out) I've been very unmotivated to finish this story. However, that spell of writing paralysis is over. This chapter takes place during both _A House Divided _and _Under My Skin_. Most likely there will only be one more chapter after this, but possible two, as I'm thinking of writing a post-wedding epilogue.

You can also expect much more introspection in these following chapters, because I'm not about to have Cameron talked sincerely to a deluded House who thinks he's slept with Cuddy. That would be entirely unrealistic, though the urge to break canon is quite tempting.

Anyway, enjoy, and as always, thanks for the many wonderful reviews!

xxx

When Kutner died, Cameron clung to Chase fiercely. The need to know she was loved and wanted was overwhelming. She let herself fall into him, and he seemed relieved that she had finally shown her buried compassion for him. She was always so composed, even around him. She knew he'd welcomed the slight change in demeanor.

When Chase almost died, Cameron took an extra shift at the hospital. After Chase had been examined and determined as healthy, she convinced him that Cuddy had begged her to stay, kissing him lightly before sending him home in a cab. The truth was, she couldn't be near him. She couldn't look at him without losing her mind.

The cafeteria at three a.m. was a very lonely place to be. Cameron liked it here at night, when most of the lights were out and the room was still. People bustled in and out of the eatery all day, banging trays, counting change, gossiping with co-workers. The entire hospital was fast-paced and stressing, her days filled with quick strides and hasty examinations. She could only relax when surrounded by silence, and she found a quiet friend in the large, muted room at night.

A cup of coffee sat in front of her, untouched and most likely chilled by time. Cameron's forehead rested in her hand, hand propped up by an elbow that was digging roughly into the metal table. Her right leg was crossed severely over the left, her foot dangling in mid-air, toe pointed towards the ground.

By the time Cuddy found her, she could no longer detect any feeling in her left leg. She slid her arm down lazily, head dropping down slightly without the aid of her hand to hold it up. She looked up tiredly, wide eyed rimmed with worry and lack of sleep.

Cuddy sat down across from her, her eyes mirroring Cameron's. She offered a weak half-smile as she folded her arms into her chest.

"Had to bail Wilson out of jail," Cuddy spoke, her voice startling Cameron. She'd become too accustomed to the quiet in the wake of the aftermath of Chase's disaster of a bachelor party.

Cameron perked up, just barely, at the mention of Wilson.

"House threw the bachelor party at Wilson's condo," Cuddy went on to explain. "Wilson was found wandering around the neighborhood, _pantsless_, looking for his own house." Cuddy rolled her eyes, thoroughly exasperated. "Foreman, Thirteen, and Taub had to diagnose a patient while sobering up and Chase nearly died." She turned to Cameron. "But out of all of those strange scenarios, what I find the strangest is the fact that after almost losing your fiancé, you're hiding in here, _alone_."

Yes, alone. Cameron hadn't wanted to be near him. She didn't particularly feel like being near anybody at the moment, and what she found strange was the fact that Cuddy was the one talking to her about this.

"I just...needed to think," Cameron evaded, eyes darting from Cuddy's.

Cuddy sighed. "You're getting married. You can't run away from him every time you don't feel like dealing with his shit."

_Says the woman who's never been married_, Cameron thought wickedly. She plucked that thought from her brain. Cuddy was trying to help, she assured herself. Even if Cuddy didn't understand Cameron, she had to assume Cuddy was merely offering advice.

"I'm not running," Cameron said shortly. "I'm sitting."

Cuddy neither flinched, nor looked surprised by Cameron's abrupt comment. There was something familiar about her expression, _amused_ almost. It was the same look that could be found in House's eyes whenever he attempted to dissect a particularly curious puzzle. This was how Cuddy was staring at her now. As if she could be analyzed and cured if Cuddy just asked the right questions. As if something was _wrong _with her.

"Is Wilson okay?" Cameron asked, not actually changing the subject, but rather defaulting back to Cuddy's prior statement.

Cuddy nodded.

"And the patient?"

Cuddy nodded again. "Sarcoidosis. Taub figured it out."

Cameron arched an eyebrow. She'd never come across a patient with sarcoidosis during her fellowship with House, though they frequently considered sarcoidosis when diagnosing. "Where was House?" she asked, noting that Cuddy mentioned everyone except him.

"He's..." Cuddy paused, appearing to struggle with what to say next. Cameron met her eyes intently, not wanting to give Cuddy that opportunity to lie. Her tone seemed grave, and Cameron felt compelled to know that House was all right. "Insomnia," Cuddy said at last, giving a slight nod of the head to Cameron. "Ever since Kutner...well, he hasn't been able to get to sleep."

"Oh," Cameron remarked, finding it a bit bizarre that Cuddy knew so much about House's personal life. House deflected and evaded, lied and mocked, but when he told the truth, when he was honest and unusually vulnerable, well, those were the times when he was far from well. If House had opened up to Cuddy, Cameron was certain he was not fine. House opening up to anyone, perhaps excluding Wilson was cause to be concerned.

"Back to Chase," Cuddy insisted, forcing Cameron to meet her eye. "What are you doing here? Do you want...don't you want to be with him?"

Cameron shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her index finger grazing over a torn cuticle on her thumbnail. She made a fist under the table, trying to alleviate some tension from her body.

"Cameron...." Cuddy began, her voice sad and disappointed.

"He could have died tonight," Cameron said firmly, catching Cuddy off-guard. "He could have died and all I could think about was losing him. If he had..." She paused, her voice cutting off. She waited a moment before regaining control of herself. She looked Cuddy in the eye. "I can't lose another husband," she said simply.

Sympathy flooded Cuddy's face. She shot Cameron a supportive grin. "But you _didn't_ lose him," she insisted.

Cameron shrugged, well aware of that fact. "But I could," she said plainly.

"You should be having this conversation with him," Cuddy remarked. "Not me."

"I know," Cameron replied, knowing full well that she ought to be exchanging worries and doubts with Chase. She should be emptying her pent up worry with him by her side, not alone in a deserted and dimly lit cafeteria.

"Then...?" Cuddy let the question linger, prompting Cameron to answer. Her interest mystified Cameron.

"There's just..._something_ I have to tell him," Cameron said slowly, taking time to form the words fully. "And I'm not sure how he's going to take it."

Cuddy blinked back in surprise, a million different emotions crossing over her face. "I...you...you shouldn't...." She sighed, rubbing her temple with her index finger slowly. She turned back to Cameron. "If this is about House, then I think you should...."

Cameron scowled, eyes narrowing. "Unbelievable," she remarked loudly, quickly rising to her feet and pushing her chair in. She glared at Cuddy, her sudden gust of anger clouded her head. Cuddy looked alarmed and frozen in indecision. Cameron scoffed.

"You know," Cameron continued, hands slamming firmly onto her hips. "If you want to know something about House, you'd have better luck just _asking_. Don't induce a twenty minute conversation under false pretenses just to try to elicit information out of me," she snapped, rushing past Cuddy. "I'm not going to put your mind at ease by telling you that House only has eyes for you and confirming for the millionth time that I'm not secretly pining for him. Like you said, _no one should be with House_." She paused. "Least of all you."

A stunned Cuddy, the heavy sound of clinking heels, and a loud clang as the door swiftly shut was all that Cameron left behind in the aftermath of her fury.

xxx

She bit her lip as Chase walked out on her, not pausing to look back or come to any sort of agreement. Then again, she wondered if she had ever really given him a choice. Hadn't she known he wouldn't understand why she wanted to keep her husband's sperm? The words sounded crazy even in her head. Chase must have thought her insane. In fact, she was beginning to think she was insane, wondering what she had hoped to accomplish by surprising Chase with this news.

Part of her thought that deep down she wanted to give him an easy way out of their relationship. She had doubts, that was true, and perhaps she wanted the blame of the fall out to go to him. Because as far as she could tell, in the wake of any other impending disaster that could possibly lead to their breakup, she would be the bad guy. If he left over this, she might seem crazy, but she didn't seem evil. She wouldn't be ostracized at the hospital.

This idea didn't satisfy her though, because she did want to marry Chase. Everything was happening much sooner than she'd planned on, but she was, in retrospect, happy about the prospect of spending her life with Chase. He adored her and while he didn't quite understand her, he was patient and willing to learn how to navigate her. Every time she exhibited a new flaw, he not only forgave her for her imperfection, but he seemed to love her even more for being damaged.

At the thought of being damaged, her mind flashed instantly to House, her brain beginning to recollect the conversation they had had during her only official date with him.

No. She wouldn't allow herself to be persuaded by the past. What was done was done, and she was burning bridges, turning as much into ash as she could stand. This problem was about her and Chase, and for once, House wasn't a part of it.

Perhaps the reason this issue was so significant was the fact that it was absolutely unrelated to House. They'd become so accustomed to relating the cause of their problems to House, pegging their insecurities on their past experiences with House. Chase, though newly confident and respected in his new position of leadership at the hospital, would always be plagued by the feeling of not being good enough, of not measuring up to some unreachable standard that House always seemed to hold him up to. House had let Cameron feel like she was capable, though those moments were rare, and the fact that he'd told her he was proud of her and hadn't spoken the same words to either Chase or Foreman was a huge dividing line that separated the bond the three of them had built. Foreman could fight back in little ways since he was part of the team again, and Chase could be sarcastic and cool with House, but deep down, Cameron knew House would always see through their facades. Underneath of their controlled exteriors, they were begging for acceptance or at least acknowledgment, a reward he had only ever bestowed upon her. She could still feel the affect he had on her, same as the other two, but she would always know that he regarded her in a higher manner, or at least, wanted everyone else to think that way.

This inexplicable pull to House was never vocalized by either her or Chase. Whenever she and Chase had a problem that could be linked back to House, the argument usually went by unresolved, both parties apologizing, not wanting to relive all of the tempestuous emotions of their time as House's fellows. Yet, now she and Chase faced a new problem, a problem without House's impact, and they couldn't just skate around the issue this time. They had to resolve it.

She wondered briefly if she should just tell him that she needed to hold on to the last tangible shred of her husband's existence, however crazy it may seem. She needed Chase to know that she wasn't clinging to the past in an effort to prepare for the possibility of a divorce. She just needed to make sure she never forgot about him, her former husband. She needed a reminder of who she had been and where she had come from, a piece of evidence that life had indeed existed before House, no matter how painful those memories were. She needed to remember that House did not define who she was. She had to recall the times before House in order to realize that she could live happily with Chase, after House. She couldn't let that go.

So many things never said. She was the queen of regrets in this way. She and Chase were always missing each other, his timing too fast, her actions too small. They meant well, but never said what they meant, leaving the other feeling rejected and uncertain. Perhaps Chase could be secure about the future of their marriage, opting to live in hope and believe that deep down, beneath all of their baggage, he could reach her. She wasn't naive enough to believe this was true, though she did hope that he ended up being right in the end. She wanted to believe in his faith in their love, but she'd been turned into a skeptic. She needed him to accept that battered part of herself. She wasn't the optimist she had once been. She'd changed and she would certainly change again. She needed to know he could handle this.

If she just told him, explained clearly her motives for wanting to hold on to that remaining piece of her husband, she knew he'd understand. But she felt hurt and upset that he didn't instinctively know this already, that he was mistrusting her intentions all over again. She couldn't forever live feeling guilty and conspicuous. She wouldn't do that to herself. She wouldn't let Chase do that to her.

And so, she sat, teary-eyed and lost in her own head, trapped by the weight of a decision that she knew would shape the rest of her life.

xxx

Okay, I've decided...two more chapters! And since this is a Hameron story overall, I have a funny feeling you guys will thoroughly enjoy the final chapter in this story.

Review and I promise to update quickly!


	17. Stranger in My Body

I apologize for how long this took! But after reading a few beautiful Hameron stories, my faith was renewed. Thanks for reading!

xxx

Chase was livid, but holding his tongue. Well, perhaps he wasn't livid, but he was playing that part very well. Cameron knew he was concerned, despite his casual shrugs and nonchalant expressions, but they both knew she was terrified. She couldn't help it, and for once, he had no rational reason to be angry with her for feeling this way.

It was a perfectly disastrous way to begin their marriage.

Cameron cancelled their honeymoon and when Chase started to protest, she insisted that they'd already taken one vacation for the year. She couldn't relax, not even thousands of miles away in a tropical paradise. She would feel guilty and restless and Chase would grow annoyed with her. It was much better if they went straight back to work.

The transition happened so gradually, that Cameron had barely noticed the change. First, Foreman would call her in for a consult, or Thirteen would ask her opinion. A few days later she was at the board, next to Foreman, writing down symptoms and helping the team crack difficult cases. Since their specialty was difficult diagnoses, she found herself in the conference room a lot. Soon, she realized her herbal tea bags were on the bottom shelf again, next to the coffee, and Chase's favorite green mug sat in the sink. He wasn't there as much as she, but he came by whenever he could manage it. _A favor to Foreman_, he insisted, leaving no room for her to believe he felt he owed House. She'd nod, silently. They were different at work, she and Chase, and they'd long ago come to accept that. They'd made a pact, after they married, to leave their work baggage in the locker room. At home, they wouldn't talk about the hospital. They'd pretend they were free.

"Maybe it's autoimmune," she hears Thirteen say, over the noise in her head. She smiles, turning to Foreman, who laughs, understanding her irony. "What?" Thirteen asks, the irony of uttering Cameron's famous line escaping her.

"Nothing," Foreman insists, shaking his head as Cameron retreats back into her own. Taub suggest environmental factors, and Cameron's able to step out of the memories rushing back to her, scribbling fiercely on the whiteboard to erase the pain.

She's there hours later when the fellows leave and Foreman pulls his chair over to her old desk where she's sitting. She blinks up at him, adjusting her glasses as she leans forward across the glass surface. "Yes?" she questions, face warm, but eyes vacant and strange.

"Maybe you should stop," Foreman suggests, and his tone is as sensitive as she's ever heard.

"Charting?" she asks, avoiding his real topic of choice. She'd much rather be evasive than admit she knows where he's going with his suggestion.

"It's hard for all of us," Foreman manages.

She clenches shut, her body closing down at the intimate conversation. For someone so seemingly open, she knows she shuts down more than she ought to. She doesn't want to be there, to be talking about _him_. If she doesn't open up, she can ignore the reality that he might never come back.

"Chase is worried," Foreman sighs, looking away, in an effort to make the subject a bit more bearable for her.

She manages a small, unstable half-smile. "Chase is always worried," she begins, then decides there's no point in playing ball with Foreman. He can see through her defenses.

She lifts her legs up onto her chair, sitting indian-style. "He's mad that I'm worried about him," she says, looking out through the glass walls at the hospital staff idling in the corridor. "It's the same old fight, but this time, he's mad at himself."

"Chase never gets mad at himself," Foreman remarks, and it's clear to Cameron that he's hoping to lighten the mood.

She doesn't smile. "He _wants_ to be upset with me, but he knows there's no reason to be. He's mad for being insecure and angry that House is still getting to him, even when he's not here." She winces. The sound of his name, the taste of the structure of familiar letters in her mouth. It's all too much. It's too soon. It will always be too soon.

Foreman climbs to his feet, understanding that there's no good he can do. "He loves you," he offers, hoping that maybe she'll open up to Chase, that maybe she'll let him in, just a little bit more.

She sighs, brushing her bangs back behind her ear. "He's my husband," she says oddly, as if this says everything.

In a way, it does.

xxx

The next morning, in the car, _their _car, she tries.

"It's just hard," she says after minutes of silence, her neck arched gracefully as she peers out through the window at the pedestrians walking by. Her temple is aching, a sure sign that she should expect a caffeine headache if she doesn't indulge shortly.

Chase waits, hands gripping the steering wheel a bit too tightly, his eyes fixed too determinedly on the road ahead of them.

"I'm just worried...about everyone," she blurts out. "Not just _him_. But Wilson, Foreman, the team. You." She pauses, her right hand resting on the edge of the door. She picks at the fabric of the interior, a nervous habit carried over from childhood. She wonders if Chase notices these quirks about her. She wonders if _he_ does.

"We're all worried," Chase says, and she knows he's only talking to break silence. He hates silence.

"I know," she agrees, hands falling down into her lap. "It's just hard to talk to you about it. I don't...I don't want you to think...."

Her voice falls dead at the first sign of emotional imbalance, and her eyes lock up, drifting past the visual aids in front of her, seeing things that are not really there. She's found that by not _really_ looking at the environment around her, she's able to keep her emotions in check. She can sense sadness a mile away, and now, she can control it. She wonders if this was how House operated. If he learned these tricks as a boy.

Chase's hand fits over hers and he squeezes tightly. "I understand, Allison," he says, and for once, she doesn't feel like he's lying.

She forms a smile for him, thanking him quietly as she turns the knob on the radio up.

Their relationship had never had the typical communication style most other couples had, but she's begun to realize that perhaps they connect on a more significant level. He understands her quiet spells, reading between sighs and eye rolls, connecting trembling hands and quivering lips to words she cannot manage, words she could never speak out loud. He's learned when to leave her alone, and when to slip his arm around her waist. He's learned to relax more around her, and she believes he's become accustomed to their new life together, understanding that she chose him, and not House.

What he doesn't seem to realize is that House was never even in the running, not really anyway. What she doesn't tell him is that if he was, if he'd made more of an attempt to reach out to her....

Well, it does no good for her to think of those things. The past is the past, and they're all in much different places now. Life sifted out a certain way for all of them, and she knows she cannot undo the way things are.

She's not even sure she would want to if she could.

xxx

The real surprise, Cameron knows, is the odd, icy relationship she and Cuddy have settled into with one another. She finds herself unable to sympathize with Cuddy, and knows that the feeling is reciprocated. Wilson had been the one to tell her, to break the news, at the reception. It hadn't helped that Cameron could read him like a book. Something had been bothering him. She'd pressed until he caved, and found her anger targeted Cuddy.

At the time, she knew no one had really blamed her for harboring anger towards Cuddy. Cameron realized that on some level Cuddy hadn't told her sooner because of the wedding, but she also couldn't accept this excuse, not fully. She knew exactly what would have happened if Cuddy had told her even an hour before the wedding. She would have cancelled everything. Or postponed. Surely she meant that she would have postponed. It just seemed like a crime to celebrate while someone she cared about...a _friend_ of hers was suffering. She hated herself for not knowing and she hated Cuddy for not confessing sooner.

Part of her wondered if Cuddy hadn't just delayed the news until after the wedding in order to ensure she married Chase; as if Cuddy had been threatened by her. Part of her was certain Cuddy had wanted to keep the news to herself, for as long as possible, to suffer alone. House had that affect on people. If he made you care about him, you soon found yourself wanting to take on her burdens alone. You didn't want to share his pain with anyone else. It was insane, Cameron knew this, but somehow, it made you feel _special_. House didn't let just anyone in.

Selfish as it seemed to her to be worrying about Cuddy's motives during such a tragic point in her former boss's life, her temper still seemed to flare up whenever Cuddy walked into the room. Perhaps what was even more shocking was that Cuddy seemed to share this same attitude towards Cameron. The two were professional and certainly civil, but the entire atmosphere seemed different when they were speaking. _Chilly_ almost.

What they needed was someone to blame, a scapegoat in the midst of all of the uncertaintly. Both seemed to be willing candidates for one another. And everyone in the hospital looked the other way. Not even Chase mentioned Cameron's change in demeanor towards Cuddy. Then again, she wondered if it was possible that he hadn't noticed. She supposed it was.

xxx

"Should run an MRI," Cameron suggests, looking to Foreman.

Foreman nods, turning to the fellows and motioning to the door. "Thirteen check his blood work for drug use. Taub, make sure we're not missing _anything_ from his medical history."

The team splits instantly, just as Cuddy walks inside, nodding to Foreman slightly. Foreman looks up at Cameron, then leaves, most likely to run the MRI, while Cameron hangs behind. In this new team situation, Cameron always seems to be the one to hang behind. She can't remember if it's by choice or by process of elimination, and she honestly can't discern whether she cares anymore. It's not important.

Cuddy looks up at her, and the awkward tension between the two quickly reappears. "Dr. Cameron," she says formally, a sign of her professionalism. "Have you heard from Wilson? He cancelled his patients for the day yesterday, and there's been no word since then."

Cameron shakes her head. "Not since Sunday," she admits, arms crossed cautiously across her chest. "He mentioned that he might...." She pauses, trailing off, not wanting to say his name out loud. She can barely handle thinking it, but _saying_ it? To Cuddy of all people? "He can have visitors now, you know," she offers instead, fiddling with her hands in an attempt to find something to do to distract her mind.

Cuddy's face changes, eyes softening slightly. "I should have guessed," is all she says.

Cameron nods, watching as Cuddy makes her way over to the end of the room, towards the second office. _His_ office.

"It won't..." Cameron begins to explain, but is cut off as Cuddy pulls on the unmoving door handle.

"It's locked," Cuddy remarks, shocked.

Cameron nods. "I thought...." she begins, eyes skimming the carpet. "No one really wanted to go in there. I just...I didn't think it would be right to leave it open." Cameron's shoulder hunch downward, sinking back into herself. She can't tell Cuddy the truth. She can't explain that she's terrified to step foot inside of his office, that it feels _wrong_. She can't explain all of the memories, the feelings, the pain that surges through her body just at the very thought of stepping inside. Of course, even if she could manage to spit out the words, she knows Cuddy doesn't want to hear them. Cuddy doesn't want to think that Cameron has her own history with House. It's petty, but Cameron can relate. She doesn't want to think about Cuddy's pain either. She'd much rather pretend it wasn't there.

Cuddy nods at the locked door, then shrugs, in an attempt to make the issue seem less significant. "He's not dead, you know. He's coming back." The last statement is said more to reassure herself than to be construed as true.

Cameron can't agree. "Maybe," she says briefly.

"You should see him," Cuddy remarks, not meeting Cameron's eye. It's the closest they've been to a truce in weeks. Cameron blinks up at her boss.

"So should you," she counters, weary of their game.

"I'm just...." Cuddy begins, fishing for an excuse. "Just. Busy."

Cameron's eyes widen slightly at the generic excuse. "Oh. Right." She purses her lips, searching for her own explanation. "Well, I'm just..." She hesitates. _Just what? _She's been busy too, certainly, but she knows she could find the time. She's been afraid, definitely, but when had fear ever hindered her? There's much more to her reasoning, she's sure of this, but she isn't ready to delve deeper.

"Just what?" Cuddy asks, not ready to let her off the hook.

"I'm married," Cameron says, not certain why she feels this is an excuse, though somehow, she believes it to be the heaviest and truest reason of all.

Cuddy nods. She looks almost surprised, _almost_. "I keep forgetting."

---

Wilson joins her at the small booth, offering her his open bag of chips. Cameron shakes her head, declining, as she unscrews the lid to her water bottle.

"How..._was_ it?" she asks at last, unable to manage the real question weighing down upon her.

Wilson understands immediately, smiling bravely. "He's still House," he replies, and Cameron takes comfort in his statement. They're the most optimistic words she's ever heard Wilson utter. She nods and returns her attention to her water bottle.

"You should...."

"No," she cuts him off, raising her hand slightly in protest. Her eyes scramble downward, unable to sympathize with him any longer. Her battle has always been an inward one, a private one. She has responsibilities now...as a wife. She knows she can't visit him. Chase would never forgive her.

Wilson appears to follow her crazy tangent of thinking. He sighs deeply, reaching across the table and grabbing her hands, enveloping her small palms in his large ones. His eyes burn across her face, forcing her to make eye contact, coercing her to cave, just a _little_.

"I think Chase would understand," he remarks, and his eyes are sincere.

Cameron's mouth begins to move, but she finds that words fail her. She's been having this problem quite often lately. She smiles appreciatively at Wilson, scrambling to construct a semi-decent sentence. "You don't know Chase like I do," is what comes out, the words surprising her, but the lilt of her voice scaring her. She doesn't recognize her tone any longer. Her demeanor is all wrong and unfamiliar, and even her mannerisms have changed slightly. She wonders if she looks sick.

Wilson lets go of her hands, pulling back, and with this action, showing her that he won't force her to do anything she's unwilling to do. She's grateful, but a bit hurt. She would love for someone to force her to behave a certain way, to say certain things and copy certain looks. She'd hoped Wilson might be this person to help her. She needs _someone_ to help her, but she's too crippled by fear to pose the question.

She watches as he adjusts the watch on his wrist, worn upside down, sported like a medal. It's then that she realizes Wilson's just as lost as her, if not more. The two had both battled grief, were _still_ battling grief from losing people they loved, and now they were supposed to know how to handle _this_. It wasn't quite grief and wasn't quite mourning, but every time Cameron walked by that empty office, her heart panged like someone had died. It was a confusing concoction of feelings, and it always was whenever House was concerned, guilt centered around the heart of it. She was just too damn tired to even fathom why she should be feeling guilty. For once, the puzzle made absolutely no sense.

"Cuddy's going tomorrow," he says, and Cameron detects the hint of desperation in his voice.

"She should," Cameron says, her voice thin. She hates this side of her, this new, angry piece of herself that she can't wrap her head around. It scares her, like so many things tend to do nowadays.

"_You_ should," Wilson prompts one more time. When Cameron does naught but look down, he sighs once more, scratching his neck as he leans forward. "Allison," he breathes, capturing her eyes again.

She doesn't respond, but allows her green eyes to flicker up to meet his. She sits, strange and stoic, her body as still as stone.

"He affected all of us," Wilson remarks, eyes burrowing into her. "Me, you, Cuddy, Foreman, Chase. The new team." He breaks off, taking a moment before continuing. This is hard for him. Cameron acknowledges that. "We're all going through changes, reevaluating, analyzing, wondering what to do next, wondering what will happen if he...if he doesn't...."

"Don't say that," she all but snarls, jumping from the sheer strangeness of her voice. Her eyelids blink open and closed quickly, and then her eyes are back on Wilson's, searching for answers, looking for guidance.

Wilson's face drops slightly, his eyes saddening, his jaw softening. His tone becomes calmer. "He needs us right now," he starts. "He may not realize it...hell, he may not even _want_ us to see him, but he _needs_ us."

Cameron smirks awkwardly, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Please, he'd probably die of embarrassment if Chase went to see him."

Wilson smiles back. "Chase won't go see him," he insists. "Probably not a good idea for Thirteen or Taub either, considering he doesn't like to show his weaknesses to his employees."

Cameron nods. "He certainly doesn't."

"But you're not an employee anymore," Wilson remarks. "Even when you were, he broke all the rules for you. He let you in, Allison. You may not even realize it, but what he did with you...it's rare. He doesn't just open up to anybody."

"I know," Cameron says, because it's true.

"You're going to hate yourself if you don't go," Wilson adds. He pauses, looking up at her hopefully. "If Chase won't understand, then don't tell him. This has nothing to do with Chase or your marriage. This is about you going to visit someone who needs to know you still care."

"I..." Cameron's mouth locks up, fear gripping at her tongue.

Wilson shrugs solemnly, standing up to leave. He squeezes her shoulder slightly, leaning over until he's eye level with her again. "You know, someone once told me that you can control your actions, but not your emotions." Cameron clenches, wincing at his recycling of her words. She turns, looking at him squarely. He continues. "You once told me that you didn't cheat on your husband, because you knew you wouldn't have been able to live with yourself."

Cameron pulls back, breaking their stare. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Wilson sighs, folding his arms across his chest. "I just...I don't think you'll be able to live with yourself if you _don't_ see him."

Cameron bites her lip as Wilson vanishes, his words still looming over her head, threatening to break through the concrete persona she's created over the past month. She swallows nervously, hands trembling noticeably as she reaches for her drink.

She knows he's right. Chase won't forgive her if she goes, and she won't forgive herself if she doesn't. She wonders which is worse, lying to her husband or lying to herself.

---

I know, it took forever. The next chapter is the final chapter, _not_ the epilogue. That's right, you get another bonus chapter. And, obviously I had to break canon and get imaginative, because I'm not going to wait until September to find out what the writers have in store for us.

I also apologize if Cameron canceling her honeymoon seemed out of character, but I couldn't imagine her celebrating while House was suffering. It's very unCameron-like, so I had Wilson break the news to her right after the wedding, in order to stop her from going away with Chase. I know, I'm hardly fair to him, but neither is Cameron.

Next chapter in less than a week, I promise!


	18. Such Talented Actors We've Become

This took me FOREVER. I know. I've no excuses, just apologies. I had a lot going on, but there's nothing to merit a delay THIS long. However, inspiration finally struck, and now we've acquired an ending and as an apology present, I'm posting both this chapter and the epilogue at the same time. Thank you so much to all of the amazing readers who've reviewed. Please don't stop now...let me know what you think! (and I promise with the start of the new season, there will be more Hameron to come.)

xxx

Her eyes scan listlessly through the wide windows, phone pressed tightly into the palm of her hand. She chuckles outright at her nervousness, knee shaking anxiously as she mentally prepares for what she's about to do.

She crinkles her nose. The living room is too open, too spacious, too _appropriate_. She could ease onto the couch, lay back and relax, but then she knows, she'll never go through with it. She can't speak to him with her guard down. Too much could go wrong.

She latches the front door, laughing inwardly this time, at her overly cautious efforts. Chase won't be home for hours, and besides, it's just a phone call. She's overreacting again.

Her feet scamper lightly across the wooden floors, making a sharp left followed by a soft right into the bedroom, where she closes and locks the door in one swift motion. Her palms are sweaty now and she's still hung up on the details of this phone call, unable to stand and dial.

The bed seems far too awkward a place to call him from, as if somehow he'll be able to see through the line and her shaky voice, like he can still read her as well as he once did.

Sighing slightly she creeps over to her walk in closet, smirking at how young she feels. She's hiding in the dark of her closet to make a phone call to a boy. Suddenly she's fourteen and terrified, but she's just dialed the number and now there's no turning back.

The receptionist answers with fake enthusiasm and Cameron stumbles over her words, barely uttering his _name_ correctly, let alone her request. If she's a total basket case, the secretary doesn't show she's amused, but merely puts her on hold, elevator music sounding in her ear.

This is when the true paranoia sets in and she digs her free hand into her thigh, eyes slammed shut as if waiting for a bad dream to end.

He doesn't say hello, but the music ends.

Her eyes widen and her heart flares to live.

She remembers to breathe.

"I always knew you'd find a way out of coming to my wedding," she manages at last, wincing at the sheer lunacy of her words.

She throws her head back, sinking to the ground in humiliation. She could have said _anything_, anything at all. Hell, even just saying his name would have been better. But now she's created tension with her terrible joke and failed attempt at light conversation, and she's sure there will be ramifications to her mishap. She's cringing at the silence on the other end now, scolding herself for being so rash. She can't even _see_ him and she's a mess.

"Well, I heard there was no open bar," he answers after a long bout of silence, and she relaxes a bit.

Now it's her turn and she's already messed up her first attempt. She has no doubt he's ready to hang up the phone and part of her almost wishes he would so that she could put an end to this embarrassing display of idiocy.

"How..."

"Oh, come on," he snaps, though there's not very much anger in his voice. "That's the best you have for me? You make a crack about your wedding? Have you been practicing this for...what's it been...a month now?"

Old anger surges quickly within her and she opens her mouth to slam him with a retort, but catches herself before she says a word. She's not sure how to handle him like this, broken and vulnerable, and she's not sure what the ground rules are. Can she tease him? Can they talk the way they used to? Hell, can she even _make_ herself talk at all?

"You sound good," she says dumbly, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Now she sounds like a former acquaintance, an old high school friend, or his damn mother. She could scream.

"Don't go getting all nice on me, Allison," he mutters. "Not now when I only just managed to break you of that habit."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," she jokes, smiling in spite of herself. "So have you managed to drive any of the nurses to quit yet?"

She can almost feel the weight of his grin. "There's one," he remarks. "She hasn't left yet, but I'm breaking her down. Her name's _Edna_. You can imagine what she looks like."

She laughs quietly, hair tickling her neck as she turns onto her side, knees curling up to her chest. "How's the food?"

"Crap," he replies bitterly. "Better than the crap we serve at the hospital though, I'll give them that much."

"Yeah, because you ate so well _before_."

There's a slight pause, because she had to go and say 'before' as if he's different now, as if something's changed. This has been the very instance she'd been trying to avoid and now, she's ruined yet another moment. Strike two.

"Has Foreman been driving my department into the ground?"

A smile escapes her lips. "No," she says coyly. "Of course, he can't take all of the credit."

"Thirteen's cracking the whip on him?"

She laughs. "No one's told you?" She finds it difficult to believe that he has no idea that she's been helping out.

"Please, Wilson talks about patients and _me_. Cuddy's _busy_ all of the time. And Foreman and the other ducklings came here once and sat and gawked at me awkwardly. I now officially know what it's like to be an animal in a zoo."

Her eyebrow arches in amusement. "Well, I've been _dropping by_ every now and then to help Foreman...."

"_Aha_," he replies, his voice teasing and light. "So you _have_ missed me. It just took you two years to figure it out."

She rolls her eyes, hand brushing against her cheek as she switches the phone to her left ear. "Someone told you," she says knowingly.

"Wilson, Cuddy, _and_ Foreman," he admits.

"Well don't start boasting quite yet...I'm only..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, doing Cuddy and Foreman a favor until I come back," he remarks animatedly. "Save the lies for your husband."

She purses her lips. "I was going to say that I'm only hanging around there to make sure no one writes on your board."

He snickers. "_They're just not ready_," he teases, recalling an old joke.

She grins, smile fading into nothingness as the seconds tick away. She exhales cautiously. "I've been meaning to come by," she adds quietly, not sure what else to say.

There's a pause, the distinct sound of his breathing, then the slight popping sound of his lips parting. "_I know_."

Her eyes widen slightly. "I'm...I'm sorry," she begins.

He doesn't respond.

"For not visiting," she continues. "Or calling sooner."

Another pause.

"I keep...I keep thinking back to the last conversation we had," she muses, elbow digging into the carpet. "I'm sorry for harassing you for advice about Chase. If I had known...if...well, what I mean to say is, I hope you know by now that you can tell me if something's going on. Not that you have to. Just that you _can_."

There it is, a small admission, but an admission still. She's owning up to the guilt she's felt over not discovering his secret sooner, as well as letting him know that she's a bit slighted over the fact that he didn't feel comfortable telling her. It's a selfish jealousy, but it's still there nonetheless.

There's another pause.

"I'll buy you lunch for a week when you get back if you'll just _say something_," she practically begs.

"Make it a month."

"Ha, got you to talk," she smiles, tension fading.

"Bribery is _so_ beneath you Cameron." Another pause. "Can I still call you that? _Cameron_?"

"If I told you no, would it make a difference."

"Not really."

"Then of course you can still call me that."

"Do me a favor."

She sits up. "Yeah. Anything."

"_Anything_?"

"_House_," she warns.

"Fine," he replies, amused.

"The favor?" she asks.

"Oh, right. In my second drawer..."

"Your porn drawer?"

"Well that's not what _I_ call it."

"What about it?"

"There's a key."

"Okay..."

"Take the key and lock the drawer. I don't want Taub getting his grubby fingers on any of my favorites while I'm gone."

"Are you..."

But there's a click and she realizes he's gone.

She's still smiling when Chase gets in from work.

xxx

"You've been quiet," Foreman says, looking down at her solemnly. It's a deja-vu moment. She's at her old desk, Foreman, _the boss_, is hovering over her for reasons neither fully understand. But this time, he's standing in front of her because he's _her friend_ and because she's not the same as she was before. She's not diving into the cases, not taking the lead. She's eager to pawn tests off on Thirteen and Taub, sitting in the backdrop, hunched over paperwork and charts.

Perhaps it does look a bit suspicious.

She takes her glasses off, looking up at him with a smile. "Quiet, huh?" she quips. "You've been rather _observant_ lately."

There's an implied comparison to House. It goes unsaid, like so much else within these glass walls.

"Have you seen him?"

Cameron's mind flickers back to life. "No, but I will. His parents say the trauma first occurred when..."

Foreman laughs, shutting her open file gently with one hand. "Not the patient Allison. _House._"

She blinks back her surprise. "Oh," she begins softly. "No."

He eyes her curiously.

"I called to check on him yesterday," she says nonchalantly. "So, there's that."

"And Chase?"

She shrugs. "If he's gone he hasn't told me."

There's a moment of hesitation on Foreman's part and she can read his thoughts easily. He's debating whether or not to bring up her problem's with Chase. They've steered clear of each other throughout most of the week.

"We're fine," she insists, crossing her arms gently. "It's not easy to work with someone you're close to. We give each other distance at work. That's all."

He nods, but his suspicion is still there. She can sense it.

"Okay," he replies, ending their discussion and accepting her lie.

They've all become such talented actors.

xxx

There's a note when she gets home the following day. It's a little after noon, but her eyes swell with the pull of sleep, her night shift in the ER taking its toll on her.

She slips under her covers. She won't sleep a wink tonight, but she won't mind. There's a box of wine in the refrigerator for company once the sun goes down.

The red light from her house phone blinks faintly. She reaches across the bed, snagging the phone with memorized precision.

The voicemail's quick and there are no words. There's a silence, the sound of someone _thinking_ about talking, but opting not to. There's the definitive sound of someone holding back. She knows all of this because she's made the noise herself many times before. A mute loudness that can pierce through even the deafest of ears.

He's called her and she's not sure what that means.

Only that it means _something_, because everything he does, _always_ means something.

By one fifteen, she realizes she won't be able to get any rest until she calls him back. She sighs, hitting the redial button. They never use the house phone. She wonders vaguely why they even have one...and how he got this number.

The same receptionist picks up, voice coated with sunshine, and Cameron stutters out the same word she barely uttered the day before. "House."

She sinks deeper under the covers.

"You're interrupting my piano time," he growls.

Cameron's eyes roll. "You're the one who called me while I was at work."

There's a slight pause before the denial. "No, I...."

"Called ID," Cameron says quickly. What else can she say? _I'd know that silence anywhere?_

"I _obviously_ called your house, but I didn't call for _you_. I called for Mr. Australian Cameron."

"O...oh," Cameron manages, too stunned by his words to even notice his joke. She's feeling slightly rejected although she can't put into words why that is.

"Still so gullible," House sing-songs.

Cameron's cheeks flush. "I think your time away has made you more annoying," she retorts.

"No, no. You're just not used to my witty banter anymore," he teases. "It'll take some time to readjust."

"I don't have time," she insists crankily. "I just worked a double."

"So why'd you call me instead of going to sleep?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Without calling me?" he accuses. She can clearly picture the amused gleam in his eyes.

"_No_," she protests. "I couldn't sleep _so_ I called you. They're two different things."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself."

"Is there really a piano there?"

"_I'm in a psychiatric hospital, not jail_," he quips. "Me and some of the crazies banned together to form the world's first medicinally-fueled band."

Cameron laughs. "How _like_ you."

"Was that an insult or a compliment?"

"A little bit of both," she replies, yawning.

"You know," he replies, a mischievous lilt to his voice. "If _I_ was there, I'd know _exactly_ how to put you to sleep."

"Box of wine and some Vicodin?" she teases.

"I was going to go with cheap booze, but wine works too. Wouldn't want to bring a classy girl like you down to my level."

She laughs.

"Course there are other ways to make someone tired...."

"_House_."

"I could teach Chase how to...."

"House!"

"I was going to say, _play the piano_. Very soothing." He pauses. "Why, what were _you_ thinking?"

"That you really are insane."

"Hence the hospital."

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe." There's another pause and a soft clinking sound. It takes her a moment to realize he's set the phone down. A few seconds later, she begins to hear the sounds of a piano playing.

She grins widely, in spite of her better judgment.

Because House is serenading her to sleep.

House is serenading _her._

Her ring snags at the sheets as slips her hand under the pillow.

xxx

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	19. Epilogue: How It's Going to Be Now

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There's a seminar of sorts the Friday before. Cuddy's heavy eyes look worn and sleep-deprived, her hair disheveled and forgotten. She sits twice at her desk before opting to stand up. Wilson looks just as weary, bags under his own usually youthful looking eyes.

Cameron stands quiet and out of the way, in the corner of the back of the room. Thirteen shoots a curious look at her before turning away quickly, Wilson catching her in the act. His eyes soften slightly as they find hers and she forces a small smile.

Only Chase looks relaxed, sitting haphazardly in a chair, eyes looking bored and vacant.

Cuddy rambles on and on about how he won't have his medical license back for some time. She explains that he'll be _assisting_ but that he'll have no actual medical power over any of the decisions. Foreman's in charge and there's no arguing with that. They're not to let him examine a patient (as if he'd actually try, she thinks) and they're responsible for controlling him.

Cameron lets out a small laugh at this last part and Cuddy's eyes shoot over to hers. She looks down apologetically. But trauma or no trauma, she knows there's no way House is going to be controlled. He'll be the one manipulating them in some shape or form. There's no doubt in her mind about that.

"Dr. Wilson," Cuddy begins as she finishes her speech. "And Dr. Cameron."

Cameron's ears perk and her eyes flicker back over to her boss's.

"I'm going to hold you two _personally_ responsible for making sure that he doesn't get into any trouble."

Cameron's eyes widen. "You're paying me to _babysit_?" she asks incredulously.

Wilson crosses his arms, slightly annoyed. "I don't even work with him," he insists. "There's no way I could watch him. You...you know how he is."

That's the problem, they all know how House can be, and yet Cuddy's still letting him return to the hospital.

"Look, I think I've done enough," Cameron remarks, surprising even herself by her bitter tone. "I've been running the ER _and_ helping the diagnostic team. I just want to go back to _my_ job now."

Cuddy's eyes are understanding but skeptical nonetheless. "Your job," she repeats as if the phrase is foreign on her tongue. "Yes, and just what might that be?"

Cameron pauses and Chase's eyes hit hers painfully. She stumbles over her words. "My...in the ER."

Cuddy pauses. "What if we came to some sort of _arrangement_? I'll hire someone to temporarily cover you ER responsibilities and you remain on the team for a few months? Just to help out. Just until...."

Her voice fades.

Cameron blinks. "If you think that's what I should do then...."

There's a snort followed by an "_unbelievable_".

She links eyes with Chase. He climbs to his feet.

"What'd I do _now_?" she asks, annoyed.

"Nothing," he snaps. He turns to Cuddy. "Can I go back to _my_ job now? As head of surgery? Since you know, I actually _know_ what my job is."

There are a few moments of stone cold silence.

Cameron sighs, rubbing her temples. She peers up at Wilson as Foreman, Thirteen, and Taub begin to shuffle out of the room.

"He won't be happy until we're _all_ alone, will he?" she poses, shaking her head.

Wilson looks downward, a silent acknowledgment of her accuracy.

xxx

Monday will be his first day back. She tells herself it's another meaningless day. That his returns doesn't signify a thing. There are all those rumors flying around that he practically announced his love for Cuddy.

He _should_ love Cuddy.

They should all love the people they were _supposed_ to.

But Cameron knows that this isn't the way life works. It's never been the way hers has worked out, anyway.

Chase doesn't say a word when she grabs an extra can of coffee at the grocery store. (She's also bought herbal tea, sugar, and napkins.)

"So is this how it's going to be from now on?" Chase asks as she turns to leave Monday morning. He's fresh from the hospital, eyes heavy with sleep.

She stares blankly up at him.

He could mean so many things. Is he referring to their shift changes? Or their heavy silences that seem to be enveloping them so deeply lately? Or perhaps he's referencing her taking her old job post back.

(There's a pay increase since she's advising and watching after House. They both know it's not about the money. _It's never been about the money._)

Despite all of the possible explanations for his comment, the one that tugs at her the most is the one she realizes they're both thinking. He wants to know if _this_ is how _she's_ going to be from now on; distant, silent, sneaking coffee and such away to work. He wants to know if she's going to be using up all of her laughter and smiles on _him_. If he's only going to receive what's left of her. He wants to know if there's any more significance to working with him.

He's asking her if everything's changed now that he's back.

She's clasping her hair with an elastic band as she stares up at him, legs sprawled across the floor. "I don't _know_."

At least, for once, it's an honest response.

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She arrives at five thirty. She's always gotten there early on Mondays. There's paperwork to be done, (and let's face it, no one will do it if she doesn't) and coffee to be made, and files to sort through.

She's not early just to see him first. She tells herself that five times in the car. In _Chase's_ car.

Wilson doesn't say a word to her when he spots her. She's grateful for this. Accusations hang loosely around her enough as it is. She's sick of feeling guilty. And this, well, _he_, Wilson, understands.

She reaches under the sink, uncovering his favorite mug in the process. She rinses it thoroughly, pausing only once to realize that she may just be as crazy as they all think.

None of this matters, her doing the paperwork, her looking out for him, her cleaning his damn mug. Her being here when he arrives. Her making sure that he's all right without embarrassing him. It's silly and she's merely fooling herself. At least, that's what Chase would say.

But _somewhere_ deep inside of him, she swears he _does_ notice all the little things she does for him, the way she ties up loose ends and makes their operations run smoother.

He's just not good at showing gratitude.

"Did you stop eating while I was away?" House grumbles, ambling into the conference room. "You look positively _bulimic_."

She bites back her grin.

He tosses a bag on the table. "Got bagels," he explains, walking over to the coffee maker.

She slaps his hand away. "I'm not _done_ yet. I haven't even poured the water."

He sighs dramatically. "Should have fired you _ages_ ago."

"I quit," she replies, exasperation coating her voice. _They've been here before_. "Twice, if you remember correctly."

"Right, right," he replies, a familiar amused glint in his eye. "You'll have to forgive me...they say my head's not right."

Cameron rolls her eyes as she pours water into the coffee maker. She closes the lid and turns to face House.

"Of course, if you quit _twice_, then what are you doing here?" he asks.

Cameron crosses her arms. "I was helping Foreman," she replies. "Which you already know."

"While I was gone?"

"While you were gone," she repeats.

"And now I'm back."

Cameron stares at him in response. "What's your point?"

"That I'm back and yet here you are."

"I promised Cuddy that..."

"Oh _please_," House remarks. "I don't care what you may or may not have promised Cuddy. We both know that you only do what _you_ want to do. If you didn't _want_ to be here, you would have found some way out of it."

Cameron blinks, pouring her coffee with an unsteady hand. She adds some sugar and takes a seat at the table, refusing to look him in the eye.

He fixes his own coffee and takes a seat next to her, surprising her. She doesn't look at him.

He hands her a bagel. She notices that he only bought two.

Unable to resist smiling, she accepts his small token of appreciation. "Your hair's short."

He grins. "Oh, now, did I say anything _rude_ to you when you dumped a tub of peroxide over your head?"

"You said I looked like a hooker."

He scrunches his nose, feigning confusion. "And you thought that was rude?"

She bites back laughter. "And I said your hair was _short_. That's not rude."

"It's the _way_ you said it," he insists. "You don't like it."

"Well, no, I didn't..." she begins. "I just...I liked it better before."

"Me too."

"Wait, your hair or mine?" she asks.

"Like I care about mine," he murmurs.

She starts to smile.

"Or _yours_," he adds.

She grins.

"So where is it?" House aks, picking up her left hand.

She nearly flinches from the burn of his touch, her body warming and tingling in response to his contact.

"Oh, I...I must have left it at home when I...."

"Was doing the dishes?" he asks knowingly, giving her an easy out.

"Right," she agrees, their eyes melding together with their lie.

Her hand's still in his when she spots Foreman coming down the hallway, briefcase in tow. She slips her hand slowly out of his grasp, bringing down onto her lap.

It's _burning_.

When Foreman walks in they're both sitting together, staring at the glass wall in front of them, faces composed appropriately.

(Somewhere in there is a metaphor about glass houses, she's sure.)

"Did you miss me?" House taunts, smirking at Foreman.

Foreman rolls his eyes as he heads behind them to the coffee pot. "Maybe a little."

"_Liar_," House insists.

But his eyes are on Cameron.

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